


In Each Other's Eyes

by thewolfhoundandlittlebird



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Asoiaf - Fandom, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arya being a good sister, BadGuy!Joffrey, Crossover, F/M, Finally, Fluff, I guess it's kind of a long distance relationship at this point, Lemons, Mind melding?, Sexytimes, Sharing thoughts, Slow Burn, Smut, Socal, Swimming, Weird Stuff Happens, Weird made-up world, but bear with me, but isn't he always?, losing virginity, montana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 36,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolfhoundandlittlebird/pseuds/thewolfhoundandlittlebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in modern-day, Sansa and Sandor start to hear mysterious voices in their heads. </p>
<p>I'll try to do picsets for each chapter, and I've left age ranges up to the reader. Sandor's still older, though. :)<br/>The concept is inspired by In Your Eyes, a lovely movie by the fantastic Mr. Joss Whedon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attempting a cross-over (kind of) with the movie In Your Eyes because I think the concept is cool. So it's not really following any sort of plotline or anything, I'm just playing with the idea cause I don't want to work on the other story I've got out in the air at the moment.
> 
> [Sansa Inspo Picset](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/34/c2/0c/34c20cbe1c3d85945b167fab6be29cfc.jpg)
> 
>  
> 
> [Sandor Inspo Picset](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/a0/85/e7/a085e75e4dda500df7dce209d7b428c5.jpg)

* * *

* * *

Sansa drew the heavy dove grey curtains across the large picture window in her living room, trying to block out the stark evening light. Pale as it was during the cold northern winter, the light scattering across the snow was just serving to make her throbbing headache worse. It had come out of nowhere and all she wanted to do was lie down and pull the covers up over her head, drowning in the comfort of the blankets until her head felt better. She pinched the flickering candles out on her way through her living room, stoking the fire in wood stove in the corner before flipping out the last of the lights in the usually softly-lit room. It was all just too much right now. She felt like she was hungover, but there was no reason for it; she'd just been curled up next to the window, reading on her Kindle, her other hand clasping a hot cup of tea, and then suddenly, the fuzzy, clenched feeling in her head had started.

 

She threw back the covers on her bed once she made her way back to her room, slipping easily into them and soaking up the warmth they afforded. The winters still got to her, even though the North was in her bones. Her heavy head sunk into the pillows and sleep found her easily, a welcome relief from the throbbing between her ears.

 

* * *

 

 

The water felt cool under her hands, the gentle bobbing lulling her into peace. Sunlight was fading out over the rise and pitch of the water around her, dipping at once past the horizon and jumping back above it as the wave sets rolled in. Warm air surrounded her, though she could only feel it on her face- something was covering her body. She looked down and something was wrong. That wasn't her body, covered though it was, she discovered, in the black neoprene of a wetsuit. Those weren't the familiar sight of her thighs straddling the board beneath her, and the sudden pull of strong arms was foreign to her as she flattened out on the board and paddled in, just as the last wave of a set came rolling in. Those weren't her tanned feet perched on the sticky wax in the center of the board, and she was much too high in the air, crouched though she was inside that wave she'd just been paddling with.

 

What was going on? It all seemed so real, even the throb in her head was still there. So real, but so wrong.

 

She exited the tube of the wave, curved up over the top and sunk back down in the water on her board. One last glance at the sinking sun on the horizon and she paddled in the rest of the way, shells crunching as she made her way through them to dry sand. One arm reached behind her head to tug at the cord of her zipper, the other pulling it down around her hips. She tried to look down, survey what she was wearing, she couldn't feel the familiar stings of a bikini top, but her head maintained its position, out of her control. She felt the board being tucked up under her arm and her feet made their way to the lone truck parked in the lot in the distance. Orange light reflected off of the windshield, quickly fading to a muted purple in the dying sunset...

 

* * *

 

 

The pale light of morning softly leaked in under the curtains above her bed, gently coaxing her out of her strange dream. Mercifully, the throbbing in her head had ceased overnight. Sansa pushed the covers away from her face just enough to sneak a peek at the alarm clock on her nightstand, proudly bearing the time: _9:25_. _Oh no!_ She should be sitting in lecture, halfway through her second class by now! Hurriedly throwing off the covers and pulling her hair up in a messy bun, she searched her room for something, _anything_ warm to quickly throw on. She grabbed the thickly woven sweater at the foot of her bed and tossed it on, grabbing her pack and sliding on her Frye boots on the way out of the door. Throwing open the door, she was met with a veritable wall of snow. No way was she going to be able to get to school in this. Her Subaru was perfectly capable of handling the rough Montana winters, but not the three feet of snow that seemed to have fallen overnight. She couldn't help the little smile that graced her lips as she closed the door and kicked off her freshly-donned boots. The thought that she wasn't missing anything today made falling back to sleep that much easier.

 

* * *

 

 

He made his way back to his pick-up quickly across the sand, the sun finally setting just as he loaded his board into the bed of it. There weren't many people left at this beach this time of day, affording him at least some semblance of privacy as he wrapped his towel around his waist and stripped out of his wetsuit. The dull throb behind his forehead was taking its toll on him, making him more drowsy than he normally would be right now, and making the traffic on the way back home all the more frustrating. He hated it anyway, but the headache and the overwhelming urge to fall asleep was making the ten-minute drive back to his house seem like hours.

 

He didn't even bother getting his board out of his truck when he finally pulled into his driveway. His bed was calling, and he knew that he had to shower before he could get in it. Sand in the sheets would just make him grumpier in the morning, and he knew it.

 

The shower head sputtered when he turned it on to warm up the water. He was half-tempted just to get into it cold, but that would only serve to wake him out of this drowsy state he was in and he wanted nothing more than to collapse on his bed, letting the threatening sleep claim him and erase this headache. It was finally warm after a few minutes _,_ and he let it fall over head and back as he braced himself one-armed against the shower enclosure. It was tempting to just fall asleep there. But he finished, half-dried off warily, and padded, now almost-asleep to his bedroom before falling face-first into the mattress. Two breaths and he was out like a light.

 

 

* * *

 

 _Cold. Unbelievably cold_ . A sharp just of wind hit his face when he opened the door to the waist-deep snow in front of him. An odd feeling of relief washed over him, inexplicable because in no way would he normally be _relieved_ to see so much snow outside his front door. He felt boots being stripped from his feet and the sudden softness of sheets and comforter and pillows and all things sleep-inducing being wrapped around him, and as he extended his hand to tug the curtains closed _just a little more_ , he saw the dainty, purple-nail-polished fingers reaching out in front of him. _Those weren't his._ But even through his dream, his brain screamed for sleep, and soon he was out again, dreamless and lost in the dark of unconsciousness.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Picset!](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/15/85/81/158581b004113dad81bc2ac5b5bf8438.jpg)
> 
> [Sandor character board](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/75/c7/c4/75c7c42302a2460c8435ca6cd88e9721.jpg)
> 
> [Sansa character board](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/56/5e/29/565e293389429d0a860332d6bb394085.jpg)

 

* * *

The alarm blaring the a.m. news station woke Sansa with a start, her hand falling protectively over her heart and  eyes blinking wildly in the dim light of her room.  _It's Saturday,_ she thought, glaring over to where her alarm clock sat innocently on her bedside table, silently displaying  _8:00_ in bright red numbers. 

 

… _and it's going to be another sunny day in beautiful Southern California, not a cloud in the sky and a great start to the weekend. Ventura and Santa Barbara should expect to see a high of 60 degrees, most of the inland cities reaching a pleasant 65! And now over to Schaler with your morning surf report…_

 

_What? Southern California?_ She pinched her arm, checking that she wasn't stuck in the same dream she'd had the night before, surfing in someone else's body. Nope. She was awake. She rubbed her eyes and shook it away, stretching and then climbing out of bed in search of coffee. It was going to be that kind of day;  being  awake at eight on a Saturday morning called for caffeine.

 

On her way to the kitchen, she turned on the shower, letting the water warm up as it ran through the freezing pipes. The coffee maker  sputtered and complained, seemingly protesting being awake this early as well. 

 

She let the water pour over her in the shower, enjoying the daydream of her mind's eye: running along the coast, long limbs propelling her over the packed sand, the waves crashing on her left.  Her legs ached from the exertion, but she felt…  _powerful._ Something that rarely happened, and well, it was quite nice. Soon, she was running along the loose sand heading for the pier off in the distance, making eye contact with the man leaning on the railing staring down at her. She felt her arm raise in acknowledgment, the other man's returning the wave. 

 

_Hey, Bronn!_ She? Shouted?

 

_Wait. This is my dream. Why do I have a man's voice? And why is it so raspy?_ Not that she had ever really thought about it, but if she would have expected to dream herself into a man, he certainly wouldn't sound like the steel-on-stone rasp in this dream. Alas. She? He? Jogged up to the other man on the pier, each greeting each other, and then working their way down the pier in  walking  squats. Her quads were burning standing in the shower, barely having moved from when she  entered a few minutes ago. And when they reached the end, she saw her body drop into pushups and she mentally screamed,  _ENOUGH!_ _No more! This dream is awful._ She spun around and turned off the shower, squeezing the water out of her hair, grumbling to herself how she'd planned on having a leisurely Saturday, cozied up on the couch or painting in her studio, maybe grabbing an almond croissant from Le Petit Outre, provided she could actually get out of her house… now ruined that she'd been woken up so early.  _So much for plans…_

 

_Gods,_ shut. up., it rasped.  


 

* * *

 

Sandor had just gotten to the end of the pier, just gotten most of the last set of push ups done, Bronn sweating and complaining beside him when he heard her pipe up in the back of his mind. Something about ruined plans and burning muscles, the soft little voice barely masking the disdain she felt for whatever slight this was. Well, whatever it was, it was distracting him. When she didn't stop, he could feel himself slipping out of that peaceful zone he entered from the dopamine of working out and found himself actually thinking back to her.

 

_Gods,_ shut. up.

 

_Excuse me? Who the_ hell _are you?_

 

He paused mid-push, startled that the voice seemed to respond to him. What the hell?

 

_Who the hell are you?_ He countered.

 

_I asked you first._

 

_Gods, I didn't even drink last night._ He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head and hoping the voice would go away.  A few more dips and he was done, righting himself and brushing his palms off on his shorts. He looked over to Bronn, struggling to finish the last few reps of his set and he took pity on him  _just this one time_ . 

 

Clapping his hand on his shoulder, “Bronn, I think we're good for today.”

 

“Oh, thank the _gods_ ,” he panted.

 

They headed back on the pier to the parking lot, Bronn still catching his breath. “Are we still on for tonight? Lollys needs to find a sitter if we're still planning on getting the group together for that bonfire.”

 

_Shit,_ he'd forgotten. They were supposed to get the gym group together to celebrate their first anniversary of being open. 

 

“Yeah,” he replied absently, still too preoccupied with the feeling that he was being listened to- and not by Bronn. “Yeah, man, just shoot me a text when you guys want me to head over. Your place, right?”

 

“Yeah, I think Lols said seven. Bring beer if you want any- it's gonna be a dry party otherwise,” he shrugged, saddened by the prospect of no booze.

 

“What's that all about?”

 

“I dunno, she's been getting on my case recently. Probably something to do with Tyrion being back in town,” he cracked a smile. “We used to get so pissed drunk! Probably just wanting to avoid us acting like idiots all over the beach.”

 

Sandor had to chuckle at that; he remembered some of the shenanigans Bronn and Tyrion used to get into- and how he always wondered how such a small man could stomach so much wine.

 

_Tyrion? How do you know Tyrion?_

 

_Oh, gods, you again._

 

“Alright, man, see you later on, then,” Bronn called over to him, Sandor halfway into the cab of his truck after forgetting himself again.

 

“Yeah, will do,” he called back, throwing the truck in reverse and pulling out onto the highway back to the gym. It was closed Saturdays, but the equipment needed cleaning, and he needed some time to think about who the hell was in his head.

 

* * *

 

 

The air was warm on the drive over, his windows rolled down and the salty air slowly fading as he got farther from the beach.

 

_It's beautiful wherever you are,_ she chimed back in, disrupting his mental list-making of what needed to be done at the gym.

 

_Okay, enough, what the hell is going on?_

 

_I don't know. I don't even know who you are, but you seem to be replying to me whenever I talk, so… I'm thinking that you're_ someone,  _I'm really hoping that I'm not losing my mind._

 

_Well if you are, then I am._ This was too weird. First last night with the strange dream, the snow, the foreign hand. Now this. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what had happened, and he hoped, evidently similarly, that he wasn't going crazy.  _So you got a name?_

 

_Sansa._

 

_That come with a last name?_

 

_Stark. Sansa Stark._

 

…

 

_And you, mysterious rasp?_

 

_Hey-_

 

_Well, you are a bit raspy. Yell much?_

 

Jeez, she was cranky. How'd he end up with such an angry little bird chirping at him?

 

_Hey, I heard that. You woke me up at eight with your alarm and your_ exercise _,_ he could tell she cringed at the word.  _It's Saturday morning, I should be sleeping. So give me a break._

 

_Sandor._

 

_Does that come with a last name?_

 

Oh, cheeky, too.

 

_Sandor… Sandor… what?_

 

_Clegane. Or Hound if you're in one of my classes._

 

_Oh, you're a teacher?_

 

Gods, what the fuck was he doing? Talking to a voice in his head? He pulled into the parking lot of the gym, tossed it in park and ran his hands down his face.

 

_Hey, this is just as weird for me, Sandor._

 

_Who_ are _you?_

 

_I told you, Sansa Stark. You can look me up. I have a Facebook. I exist, I promise!_

 

_What's a Facebook?_

 

_You're kidding me._

 

_I would think you would be able to tell if I'm kidding. Seems you can read my mind._

 

_Oh, my gods, you're not. How do you function?_

 

_Hey! I function just fine!_

 

_Okay, fine. Well, you have a computer wherever you are?_

 

_Yeah, there's one inside the gym._

 

_Well, then go look me up. Can I find you online? So I can prove to myself that you're real, too?_

 

_Uh, probably not… the gym has a website, if you wanted to look that up…_

 

He unlocked the gym and flicked on the lights, making his way back to the office in the corner. The computer monitor flickered on, and soon he was typing in her name. _Sansa Stark_. A few seconds and the search results turned up quite a few hits.

 

_Popular, are we?_

 

_My parents are. Those are just mentions. Parties. Who was in attendance. Stuff like that._

 

He scrolled down the page and clicked on the link to her profile.

 

_See? I exist!_

 

_Aye, that you do, little bird._

 

_Little bird? Where did that come from?_

 

_You reminded me of an angry little bird incessantly chirping earlier._

 

_That's not very nice!_

 

_Neither is interrupting someone's thoughts._

 

_Hey, you know I- we- can't help it. You did it to me, too._

 

…

 

_So what's the name of your gym so I can look you up?_

 

_Tri County Crossfit. But there isn't a picture of me on there or anything, just my name and the gym's contact info._ He scrolled down the page, but everything was set to private. All he could see was her profile picture;  a corner of her face just peeking out from a mass of flaming red hair. Still mostly a mystery. _So you know what I do, where the gym is. What do you do? Where are you?_

 

_I go to a university up north. I wanted to get out of my parents' house, but they wouldn't let me go out of state. They're just over in Big Sky. Far enough away that they're not always over at my house, but close enough if I need them,_ she rambled. She had no idea why she kept rambling. She didn't even know this guy. And he knew it. As soon as she thought it, he knew it. 

 

 

* * *

 

She stared at the page in front of her, black and yellow, three dogs in a shield in the middle of the words of his business. Workout schedules, costs, reviews, contact info. There. His name.  _Sandor Clegane._

 

_So you exist, too, then._

 

She could feel how absurd he thought this was, his faint snort of laughter as the words exited his mouth. “Yeah, little bird, I do.”

 

He ran his fingers through his hair, breathing out a heavy sigh at the situation. _Well, I've got work to do so…_

 

_Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'll just go. I- I guess I just… I don't really know how to 'go.'_

 

If he thought really hard about blocking her out, he could almost feel her fading away. _Good. Maybe now I can get some peace and quiet._

 

_That's not nice._

 

_Oh, my gods, go away!_

 

In a huff, she thought about blocking him out and almost as if she'd hung up a phone, he was gone. _Well, that was easier than I thought it would be_. She waited for a response, but nothing came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we liking the picsets, or no? Keep doing them? Do the links work?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sandor's bonfire](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/0e/b5/d2/0eb5d23a63dcd126076ce61486d269bd.jpg)   
>  [Sansa's House](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/1d/a6/56/1da6564d84ed382cb5a7cc9ddaddee27.jpg)   
>  [Layout of Sansa's House](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/08/8c/01/088c01fd0a17a87814787740192e399c.jpg)

* * *

He just couldn't get the thought of her out of his head all day. He tried thinking of everything- _anything_ else, but the memory of her voice was still floating around in there, the memory of the wisps of red hair in her profile picture still vividly in his vision. It wasn't too long of a drive over to Bronn and Lollys', and he was glad for the change in scenery and distraction by the time he was descending the stairs to their beach spot.

 

The bonfire was already blazing, the trusty members of his gym spread out around the pit. He was greeted with loud woofing as he crossed the sand over to them, he supposed a tribute to their nickname for him- _the Hound_ \- he was always hounding them during workouts. But that's what coaches were supposed to do. Wasn't it?

 

_Are you as grumpy to them as you were to me? Cause that might explain the nickname better, Sandor._

 

_Seven hells, not you again, woman. I can't be acting like I'm crazy in front of these people, they're my friends._

 

_I thought they were your clients?_

 

_Both. Now go away._

 

Lollys walked over to him, one arm extended out to him, the other motioning for him to hurry up and join the party. He still cherished the fact that these people _welcomed him_ into their circle. Well, the circle he had kind of created, more or less, along with the creation of the gym…

 

She didn't say anything, sitting there at the back of his mind, but he could tell she wanted to make some sort of remark to that thought that just flitted through his brain. _Not now._

 

Sansa sat in her little nest of blankets on her couch, the fire contentedly popping in the corner, her nightly ritual of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She watched, though not really. Imagined? _Is it watching or imagining?_

 

_Watching. Creeper._

 

_Hey. You just go tend to your guests._

 

He plunked down in the sand next to Bronn, the 12-pack of 805 he'd brought with him between the two of them.

 

He leaned over, quietly as he could, “Maybe you can sneak a few without Lols noticing.”

 

Bronn winked back at him. “Doubt it.”

 

_Enabler._

 

_Shut up._

 

The bonfire roared in front him, the twenty-odd people in attendance chatting amongst themselves as the night wore on, his long legs stretched out before him and the stars twinkling above them all.

 

_This is lovely._

 

_Enjoying the view, little bird?_ She could feel the fuzziness of his coherence, and his words- _thoughts?_ \- were a little slurred.

 

_You're drunk._

 

_Aye. Haven't been in a while. But today's a celebrating occasion! One year of me not failing. Cheers._

 

_Do I detect a little grudery?_

 

_Grudery? Sansa, I'm drunk and even I know that's not a word._

 

_You know what I meant._

 

_Do I?_

 

_You can read my thoughts. Yes. You do._

 

_How have we become so familiar already? Cheeky little bird._

 

_I don't know. But I'm not complaining. I could use the company._ Weird _company though it is. At least the circumstances._

 

_Hmm._

 

The heavy hand on his shoulder shook him out of his private conversation. “I think everyone's headed out, man. You okay? You've been awfully quiet tonight.”

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. I think it's just getting late.” Surely he couldn't pass on what was really distracting him. “Would you guys mind if I crash on your couch tonight? I think I should probably sit this one out.” He raised his almost-empty beer by way of indication of his inebriation.

 

“Yeah, yeah. C'mon, man, we're heading up now.” Bronn nodded back toward their house, perched on the rocks a few yards away. He said his goodbyes to the last few people around the campfire, and when the couch came raising up to meet his drunk-fuzzy body, he was all the more glad for it.

 

_Nighty night, drunkypants,_ she teased at the back of his head.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It had been almost a week since they'd first spoken to each other. Sansa sat in her drawing class, the model standing the middle of the circle of students and easels, sketching away on the pad of paper in front of her.

 

She thought she was doing pretty well, but his almost-constant comments were making it difficult to focus.

 

_Never skip leg day._

 

_Oh my gods, you can't just_ say _that. 'Never skip leg day.' He's not even getting paid for this, give him a break._

 

_Sansa, I'm a trainer._

 

_Well, shush, you're going to make me laugh in the middle of class._

 

_Now you know how it feels. My turn to be the distraction._

 

_Shush!_

 

Laughter. As faint as you please, and almost a little more like growling than laughing, but it was still there. She pursed her lips, shaking her head and blocking him out.No, she wouldn't be made a fool of in class, even if she did like having him in there.

 

* * *

 

 

She'd just stepped out of the shower when she heard her phone vibrating on the kitchen counter. Wrapping a towel around herself, she clicked it on, and _Joffrey._ He was back from his vacation to Europe, was finishing up business over in Big Sky and then he would he on his way over to her house to take her back over to her parents' for the holidays.

 

_Shit. The holidays._ How had that escaped her? She glanced over at the calendar on the wall, its little Christmas tree stickers she'd put there at the beginning of the year heralding her dwindling time. Two more weeks and she'd not even shopped for anyone. A groan escaped her lips as she thought of all she had on her plate now, suddenly and unexpected, _alright, not entirely unexpected._ They came around every year, it wasn't a new concept. But time had gotten away from her and now she had finals coming up for the end of the semester, Joffrey to entertain, all of her siblings to buy presents for. A dread settled over her as she made a list of all the things she now needed to do.

 

_Just get them all gift cards._

 

_Oh, hello. No, no,_ highly _frowned upon in our family. I'll just have to grin and bear it- face the crowds at the mall._

 

_Who's Joffrey?_

 

_You haven't- oh, no, I suppose I haven't mentioned him. He's been away settling contracts before the close of the year in Europe. Joffrey Baratheon. Head of Baratheon Enterprises. My boyfriend._ He could feel her blush. She could feel his disappointment.

 

_Tyrion's nephew?_

 

_Yeah… How do you know Tyrion?_

 

_Bronn. He used to do private security for him or something before he moved out here. He still comes and visits every once in a while. When Bronn and Lols had their first kid, he came out for it._

 

_Oh. I didn't know you knew him. Small world, I suppose. I'm surprised he's never mentioned you._

 

_Thanks._

 

_I didn't mean it like that. He's always got some kind of story to tell when he gets back from his travels._

 

She fluttered around her house, getting ready for Joffrey's arrival. He'd probably be here in a couple hours, weather provided. Hopefully the pass over the Divide wasn't snowed in.

 

_Little bird, flitting around._

 

_Everything has to be perfect. You don't know him._ She straightened out the cushions on her couch, absently arranging and rearranging the knick knacks on her coffee table, the stack of books on the end table.

 

_Nervous?_

 

_A little. He's normally in a mood when he gets back from business trips, and the recent weather won't make it any better. He'll probably be delayed getting over here, and then he'll be grouchy all the way back to Big Sky._

 

_Sounds like a prick._

 

She fiddled with the hem of her sweater, and he could feel her nerves on edge.

 

_Is it really that bad?_

 

_Well, we've been together for a few years, and it's getting to that point in our relationship where… Mother has been hinting that… well, our families want us to hurry up and get married._

 

_Your families want you to?_

 

_Yeah._

 

_Do you?_

 

_Not really. I have a few more years to finish up school, and if we get married, I probably won't be able to finish. They're the ones who wanted us to get together in the first place. I just wanted to be on my own. Do something by myself, you know?_

 

He grunted. She could feel his eyes roll.

 

_Whatever. I don't need your approval, guy I've never met._

 

_Well, if he's anything like Tyrion, there's probably a good guy underneath there somewhere._ Though she could tell that he didn't really mean it. That he was a little on edge now, too.

 

_Hey, I haven't given you the tour of my house yet, have I?_ She needed something to take her mind off of Joffrey, off of the pit that had settled in her stomach. She moved up off of the couch. _Well, you can see that I'm in my living room. Over there's the kitchen._ She walked through it, running her hand along the cold marble of the counter. _I'll have to start decorating soon. Pick out a tree. Hang lights. Though I suppose there's really no point, I won't be home._

 

_No, but if you want to, you should do it._

 

_I guess._ She climbed the stairs at the edge of the kitchen, glad she'd left the curtains open in the loft. The twinkling lights of the city lit up the night, snowy and covered by clouds. _This is where I paint. When I have time. Which is, like, never. Not with school now, anyway._

 

_Can I see some of your paintings?_

 

_Nope._

 

_How come?_

 

_Because I don't think they're good enough for public display. I like to keep them to myself._

 

_Hmmf, fine. But I won't let you off the hook forever._

 

_Mmhmm, sure. But let's not dwell on the subject. Look at this view!_ She walked over to the window, spanning the whole width of the house. _Isn't it gorgeous?_

 

_Looks cold. But yeah, it is. More Christmas-y than the coast, that's for sure._

 

_I used to spend hours here. The light in the autumn- just perfect. It lights up the leaves like they're on fire._

 

He tried to mask the cringe at the word, but she caught it. _What's that about?_

 

_Nothing._

 

_Don't like autumn?_

 

_No, it's just- nevermind._

 

_What?_

 

_I said leave it,_ he ground.

 

_Oh.. kay… Touchy._

 

She headed back down the stairs, flicking off the lights in the loft. A turn to the left and she was in her bedroom, the floor-length mirror leaning against the wall next to her bed betraying her movements.

 

_And, this is where the magic happens._ She cringed. _Why would I even think that? Ohmygods._ He laughed, an audible bark of surprise that she could feel reverberate through her chest.

 

_Magic?_

 

_Well, sleeping. My favorite hobby._ She was trying to backpedal, dig herself out of the hole of humiliation she'd dug for herself. He let it slide.

 

_And that mirror over there…_

 

_Yes?_

 

_Well, come on, let's see you. So I can put a face to the voice in my head._

 

_Where's the mystery in that?_

 

_I'll show you mine if you show me yours._

 

_Excuse you?_

 

_Get your mind out of the gutter, little bird. I just want to see who I'm talking to._

 

She stepped over to the mirror, pulling at the hem of her sweater.

 

_Nothing special._ But she felt the rush of nerves in his stomach.

 

_Nothing special? I think you might_ actually _be crazy after all._ He could feel the smirk across her lips, could see it reflected back at him. She pulled her hair behind her ear, still fidgeting. _Why would you think that?_

 

_Nevermind. Your turn._

 

_Maybe later, little bird._ Her phone buzzed off in the distance, vibrating itself across the marble in the kitchen. _Better get that. Might be your knight in shining armor._

 

_Yeah, probably. Later, then?_

 

_Later, little bird._

 

She felt him fade away as she found her phone; a text from Arya displayed across the lock screen.

 

_Joff's being a twat. Gendry and I'll pick you up the end of the week. Be ready!_

 

Arya! Suddenly, she didn't feel so ill. It would at least save her a few more hours away from Joffrey. Perhaps Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter 4 board](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/34/32/f9/3432f94aff6465f8a2643a3c057a802d.jpg)   
>  [Chapter 4 inspo](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/69/a6/03/69a6031aeff13d6287c0380f6e47cb3d.jpg)   
>  [Layout of Sandor's house](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ce/f4/33/cef43341811f72714d274e3aa3a03a92.jpg)   
>  [The Starks' house](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/4b/3a/52/4b3a52049ab5e67c5c1e160cf2adfa34.jpg)   
>  [Oh, the feels!](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/97/ee/aa/97eeaa309e78e9a9bbd8ec664d2aae33.jpg)   
>  [Sandor's house](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/7a/54/bb/7a54bb8432042d9384b77b49c62bf435.jpg)

* * *

He was bobbing in between sets, soaking up the warm afternoon sunshine, enjoying his day off. Saturdays were the best. He loved his work, being able to be productive everyday, the endorphins he got from the physical movement. But just being able to sit on his board, in the peace of the waves was a better feeling than anything. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling the salt water in the spray around him.

 

_LADY!!!_

 

_Shit!_ She'd startled him so abruptly that he fell off the edge of his board, just in time for a wave to crash over him. His board went spitting out in front of him, swept away in the water.  _Warn a guy next time, would you?_

 

_Shit, sorry. I forgot. But! Lady! Arya brought my puppy!_ He could see the dog at her feet, curling around her legs and losing her  _godsdamnmind_ as she wagged her tail furiously.

 

_I don't think that's a puppy anymore, Sansa._

 

_Of course she is, she'll always be my puppy._

 

_Looks more like a wolf to me._

 

_She's a hybrid, half wolf, half husky. All the better for the snow, you know._

 

_Ah._ He waded through the retreating wave, chasing after his board as it was sucked back in the riptide. 

 

“Arya! Gendry, it's so good to see you,” she greeted the figures approaching her. One short, brunette and wearing a leather jacket, the other who he assumed to be her boyfriend, tall, though not quite as tall as himself, with short-cropped black hair and piercing blue eyes. He raised his hand at her in salutations. _Sorry, I feel like I should introduce you, but you know…_

 

_That would be awkward. Hey, sis, meet my imaginary friend…_

 

_You're not imaginary._

 

_To you._

 

_True._

 

“Hey, Sans.” Her sister pulled her down into a hug, and he realized that Sansa was much taller than he thought originally. Arya didn't look to be more than about five feet, and Sansa had to considerably stoop to be able to tuck her head into her sister's shoulder.

 

“Have a good trip over?”

 

“Yeah, it wasn't too bad. We better get a move on tomorrow, though. Mom's lighting a fire under us to get all her ducklings back in the nest.” They moved into the house, shutting the door on the cold outside. Lady trotted happily after them into the living room. “Jon's on his way back from training in Alaska. Robb and Jeyne will be there, too. They're on their way over from Seattle now.”

 

_The whole clan, eh?_

 

_And my two younger brothers. And mom and dad. And Joffrey._ He could feel the dread settle over her again.  _So many people._

 

“So how's school going?” Gendry piped in, obviously the third wheel in this get together.

 

“Oh, you know. The semester just ended yesterday, so that's a relief.”

 

“I'm glad I didn't stick around for that. Too many classes.” Gendry had skipped traditional university and gone straight to a trade school, trained to be a farrier. She'd always wished she'd just done that, and be finished with school already. But then she'd already be back home, and prime to settle down with Joffrey. The more time she could put between now and that eventuality, the better.

 

_You don't_ have _to be with him you know. You work yourself up too much over it. It's not so bad being alone._

 

_I can't just break up with him. Mom and dad are counting on the support of the Baratheons if they're going to move forward with their own business, and I've been told it's essential for me to marry him. Whether I like it or not._

 

_Pretty sure that's called an arranged marriage, and I'm pretty sure that doesn't happen too much anymore. And if your parents are making you get married to some prick, clearly they don't have your best interests in mind?_

 

_And you do?_

 

_Well- you should, at least. No one else is going to look out for you, you need to look after yourself._

 

_Easy for you to say._

 

Sansa realized Arya had been staring at her for a few moments too long, suddenly aware that she'd just been zoning out.

 

“Can I get you guys something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

 

“Oh, Sans, ever the perfect hostess,” Arya teased. “Mom taught you right.”

 

Gendry, forgotten between the sisters on the couch, quietly asked for a cup of coffee, and Sansa headed into the kitchen to fix it for him. She could hear them  chattering to each other, hushed, as she rounded the corner.

 

_I think they're on to us._

 

_How could they be?_

 

_I don't know, but Arya seems like she thinks something's up._

 

_Well, go tend to your guests, then. I've got things I've got to get done, anyway._

 

_Alright. Talk to you later, then?_

 

_Sure, little bird. Just don't yell this time. I might not have such a forgiving landing again._

 

_Ha, okay. I'll try to remember._

 

* * *

 

_You never 'showed me yours,' you know._

 

_What?_

 

_You saw_ me _. The other day in the mirror._ Sansa was curled up under her comforter, the house quiet after dinner and Arya and Gendry had gone to bed. Her words slurred just a little.

 

_Had a good time with your sister, I take it?_

 

Her nose scrunched up at the accusation. We _may have had a liiiiiitle wine. Just a teensy bit._ She measured how much with her fingers, her index finger and thumb almost touching.

 

_Mhmm. I can tell._

 

_So, are you gonna show me or what?_

 

_What?_

 

_Are you gonna show me or what?_

 

_What?_

 

_Stop it._ She giggled.  _That's not funny._

 

_You laughed._

 

_Come on, show meeeee._

 

_How much_ did _you have to drink?_

 

_Does it matter?_

 

_No._

 

_Hey, quit slurring._

 

_What?_

 

_Slurr- stalling. I meant stalling._

 

_Gods, little bird, did you have any water or anything? You're head's going to be killing you tomorrow._ He was making his way over to  his bathroom, flipping on the light and illuminating the small mirror on the medicine cabinet. He had to stoop to be able to see his face, and that was just fine. Stand up straight, and she wouldn't see.

 

_Wouldn't see what?_

 

_Nevermind, drunkie. There, you happy?_ She could see him, though blurry in her state,  black t-shirt stretched over his chest, his arms folded across it,  his head cut off by the top of the mirror.

 

_Damn. You're gorgeous._

 

_Can't say I've ever gotten that before._

 

…

 

_Sansa?_

 

All he got in response was the fading sound of her heavy, even breathing as she slipped into sleep.

 

_Oh, little bird._

 

* * *

 

The sun dipped low, quick now in its descent into the ocean. The ripples on the water gold sequins in the late hour. Sandor sat on his deck, jean-clad legs dangling off the side of it, nursing a beer and listening to the insistent tap-tap of the water dripping off of his wetsuit on the railing next to him. 

 

_Merry Christmas!_

 

_And you, little bird._

 

He'd figured he'd scared her away by now. It had been over a week since he'd last heard from her. After she'd seen him. Maybe she'd gotten a peek at his face and when she sobered up the next day had been too horrified to stomach talking to him. It's not like he wasn't used to it. Though he'd found in those days that he'd almost missed having someone now suddenly so familiar with the workings of his mind to talk to…

 

_What are you up to?_

 

_Dinner with the family. Boring._ He saw the faces in front of her, the ornately decorated table with massive amounts of food and candles. The snow falling outside the wall of windows behind it.

 

_Looks nice to me._

 

_It would be if they were saying anything interesting. It's all business._ She looked over at her father at the head of the table, brows furrowed in deep discussion with the golden-haired boy next to him. 

 

_I take it that's Joffrey._

 

_Yeah. Sure enough, he was in a mood when we got here. Ugh. What are you doing for Christmas?_

 

_You're looking at it._

 

_You're not with your family?_

 

He shrugged, taking a long draw from the bottle. _Don't have any._

 

_Oh._ He could tell she was frowning, could feel the muscles in her face contort those lips he remembered so well from that brief look in her mirror.

 

_It's okay. More peaceful without the company._ But she could tell he didn't mean it.

 

_You've got_ me _. You can entertain me while everyone else carries on._ She looked down at her plate , adjusting the half-eaten food with her fork. He surveyed the scene in front of him, the perfection of the setting light on the ocean, a cat's paw ruffled up as a gust of wind disturbed the water off in the distance. _How about a tour of your house?_

 

_Hold on, little bird, I'm waiting for something._

 

_What?_

 

_Ready, on three, make a wish._ He stared at the setting sun, getting ever lower behind the faint haze on the horizon.

 

_What am I waiting for?_

 

_One… two… three!_ A bright green flash appeared just as the sun disappeared into the water.  _Did you make a wish?_

 

_Shit, no, I wasn't ready!_

 

_Ha, next time then, little bird._

 

_Where's that come from?_

 

_I dunno, it's just a myth. You make a wish at the green flash and it's supposed to come true._ He stood up from the deck, grabbing the empty bottle of beer at his feet.  _Well, this is the deck._ He swung his arms out, gesturing to the pine-colored Trex underneath him. 

 

_Nice view._

 

_Yeah, I think that's the best part of this house. And the ceilings._ He turned and stepped over the tracks of the sliding doors into the living room. Wide, open,  bright even in the incandescent lights in the ceiling. A deep, long couch was on his right, obviously well-used. The ceilings stretched up several feet over his head, painted white boards and beams.

 

_It's nice in here._ She could feel he was proud of it.

 

_Thanks. I had it built. Got tired of hitting my heads on the ceilings._

 

The kitchen was on his left, concrete counters and live-edge wood as open shelving. Sparsely populated with dishes, unlike hers. He moved back through the house, cold concrete under his feet, setting the beer bottle on the counter as he passed. He went though a hallway, his bedroom coming into view. A natural stone wall stretched up above the massive bed, stark in adornments but comfortable-looking all the same. _Where the magic happens,_ he teased. She giggled quietly. He saw the odd looks her mother and sister shot over at her from across the table.

 

_I see what you did there._

 

_Nah, no one's ever been over here._

 

_I find that hard to believe. I remember you in the mirror the other night._

 

_Yeah, well._

 

“Sansa.” She was called back to dinner, her mother glaring at her now. “Your sister and Gendry have something to say.”

 

_Shit, how long have they been talking to me?_

 

_I don't know, I was talking to you, too._

 

Arya looked over the table apprehensively, her family's attentions now directed at her. She was fumbling with something under the table, and Sansa looked at her questioningly. “We have an announcement to make…” The sisters caught each other's eyes. “Gendry and I are engaged.” She held up her hand, a sparkling diamond band around her finger.

 

_Ohmygods!_

 

_Go. Go be with your family,_ he urged, fading away from her. He sounded a little disappointed.

 

“Oh my gods, Arya, congratulations!” Sansa beamed over at her sister, everyone around her fussing and reaching for Arya's hand to inspect the bauble on it. Everyone looked happy except Joff at the corner of the table, scowling and angrily polishing off his champagne. He glared over at her, and she felt squirmy and dirty all things not pleasant when a smirk pulled at his wormy lips.

 

_Wait, don't go yet._

 

_I'll be here if you need me, little bird._ He stretched across his bed, staring up at the beams of the ceiling and wishing that she were there with him. If only for someone to spend the holiday with, if only to get her away from that creep and the looks he was throwing her.  


 

The rest of dinner passed uneventfully, her mother trying desperately to get Arya to talk about wedding plans, the latter threatening elopement if she kept at it. Plates were cleared and couples departed to their rooms, the evening late and people merry and filled with wine. Sansa turned the corner down the hall, heading to her room after congratulating her sister _one last time,_ when she ran smack into Joffrey. He'd stepped out of the shadows against the wall, waiting for her.

 

“Your bitch of a sister ruined my plans,” he spat, his voice shrill and whiny.

 

_Excuse you?_ Sandor could feel the anger swell inside her, but when she spoke, she was demure and pleading. “I'm sorry, my beloved, I had no idea-”

 

“It doesn't matter now. I won't have that bitch overshadowing us. I was going to propose to _you_ tonight, but now that's ruined.” She felt her stomach churn, _oh, gods. “_ Mother insists I still go through with it, though I've already tired of you.” His face bore nothing but disgust as it looked across at her- his body even in height and slighter even than her frame. He was nothing. A whining little boy.  _A bully._ But she had to marry him, and she resisted the urge to scream at him for the insults to her and her family.

 

_Why don't you?_

 

_Because my family needs the partnership with the Baratheons._

 

_Look at this asshole- how dare he speak to you like that? You can't stand for that, Sansa._

 

_I must._

 

“I'm sorry I disappoint you, Joffrey.”

 

He twisted his wormy lips, would be looking down his nose at her if he were tall enough. “Soon enough. Mother says it must happen before the end of the year.” He poked his finger into her breastbone, leaving the ghost of the pressure as he retracted. “Make sure you look pretty on New Year's. I'll not be embarrassed by your ugly face in front of my family.”

 

Her hand twitched at her side, wanting desperately to slap him as hard as she could across his pointy little face.

 

_I can't believe this guy. Where does he get off calling you this bullshit?!_

 

_I can't- Sandor,_ she willed him to be quiet. Let her concentrate. The rage she could feel coursing through him at Joffrey's words was distracting her, and she needed to keep her composure if she were to get him to leave.

 

“Yes, my beloved. I will make sure of it.”

 

“You better,” and he spun on his heel, leaving her shaking in the hall. The slam of the front door marked her safety, and she ran to her room, throwing herself into the comforter on her bed. She grabbed a pillow and curled into it, quietly sobbing.

 

_Gods, if I were there…_ clips of people being punched, of being thrown into walls flashed into her mind.

 

_No, Sandor. It wouldn't do any good. It would just make him more awful…_

 

_Little bird, please tell me you know you deserve better than that piece of shit._

 

_There's nothing I can do about it._

 

_That's bullshit, Sansa._

 

_Just, would you just- would you stay with me?_ And for the second time tonight, he wished  she was there, with him.

 

_Aye, little bird. I'll stay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Joffrey's a twat....  
> Just a warning, and I'll make sure to warn again before posting, but there's gonna be some not-nice-stuff coming up. Cause, you know, Joffrey. So be prepared!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *************Hey y'all. Remember when I said some shit was gonna go down? Well, this is the chapter. So, if you don't want to read that particular segment, don't read past the stripes. I was going to try to make them red so they'd stand out more, but you'll see them.**************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Omg, that dress though.](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/6f/36/7e/6f367e3898584ce5a810ec960be3c4bd.jpg)  
> [Attendees](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/df/44/26/df4426eb418d74f716d6f25fb1be612f.jpg)  
> [Robin Wright's in there cause she's gorgeous and she's my Cercei.](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/a7/0c/0e/a70c0ec4cd875052c49a8a8bb4bbbcfc.jpg) Because I can.  
> [Hell, yeah, that bottom one.](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ad/06/4c/ad064c287a5cdc0089a4a3b692a57a45.jpg)

Sansa paced around her room, vacillating between rummaging through her closet and messing around on her laptop, stalling for time. It was New Year's eve, and there were only a few more hours before everyone was leaving for the Baratheons'. She remembered the words Joffrey had spat at her on Christmas, and though she really didn't feel like acquiescing his demands, she'd settled that it was easier just to give in and, well, give up. It wasn't like it was going to do any good if she put up a fight. Music blared from the speakers of her laptop, Pandora auto-playing her “getting ready” station. Upbeat. Happy. Nothing like she was feeling. She'd hoped the music would seep into her bones and do some good, but it hadn't yet.

 

She looked around the room- clothes scattered over her bed, shoes strewn all over the floor…

 

_Looks like a bomb went off in there._

 

_Ugh, tell me about it. I can't decide on what to wear._

 

_How about sweatpants and staying home?_ He knew she was dreading this night. They'd talked almost every day and every time he'd tried to talk her out of going.

 

_You know I can't._

 

_And yet I persist. Eventually you'll see straight._

 

_Help me pick something out._

 

_I am the last person you want to help you with that._

 

_Oh, come on._

 

_My closet consists of workout clothes and swim trunks. I own two pairs of shoes._

 

_You're no help._

 

_I told you._

 

She pushed the hangers around in the closet again, hoping that something new would pop out at her. _Maybe Marg would have something._ She picked up her phone, scrolling through the names in her contact list until she found her.

 

Marg, s.o.s. I can't find anything for the party.

 

_So what are you up to tonight? Going to a party, too?_

 

_Nah, staying home._

 

_Again?_

 

_I don't get out much._

 

_Clearly. You need to get yourself a girlfriend, sir._

 

_Ha, I'm not a sir. And that's not gonna happen._

 

_Why? You're a nice guy._

 

_Yeah, to you. But that's not the problem._

 

_Then what is?_

 

_Another time, little bird._

 

Her phone beeped, the text scrolling across her lock screen.

 

I have just the thing. I'll bring it over when Jaime and I pick you guys up.

 

Can you bring it earlier?

 

Can't escape, love. Ty and Shae are here and I gotta entertain.

 

OK. What is it, so I can get ready?

 

Surprise. Just go simple with a red lip, k?

 

K.

See you in a few hours, love.

 

_Did you at least get some champagne?_

 

_No?_

 

_What do you have?_

 

_I think I have beer left over from Christmas, and probably some whiskey around here somewhere…_

 

_Good. Get drunk with me._

 

He chuckled, _what?_

 

_Yeah, at the party. It'll be fun. And then you won't be alone on yet_ another _holiday. Plus, I'll need something to take my mind off of things._

 

_Alright, fine. But only for your entertainment's sake._

 

_Good. That's settled, then. Come back in a few hours, k? I've gotta get ready- no peeking._

 

_I won't peek._ He wasn't entirely sure that was true…

 

* * *

 

He only stole a glance at her once- as she was running the tube of lipstick across her bottom lip, intent on the application, unaware he'd sneaked back in. She smacked her lips together, backing up to survey herself in the mirror. She stood on tiptoe, tousling her hair over her shoulder and evaluating. Long legs stretched out beneath the hem of her robe, and he felt instantly guilty about watching. When he heard the rap at her door, he faded out, leaving her to answer it.

 

* * *

 

Margaery flew into her room, a flurry of blonde hair and rose perfume trailing after her.

 

“Sans! It's good to see you!” She pulled her friend into a hug, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other out to the side with a garment bag draped over it.

 

“You, too, Marg. Thank you so much for bailing me out.”

 

“Oh, it's _no_ problem.” The blonde winked at her, all confidence and flirt. “Here,” she held out her arm, offering the bag draped over it to Sansa. “Put it on! Eee, I'm so excited!” Her fists balled up and she shook them in front of her face.

 

Sansa took it from her, and it was heavier than she thought it would be. “What's in this thing?”

 

“Just go put it on! Go. Go!” She shooed her over to the bathroom and waited impatiently outside while Sansa slipped on the dress. A slinky Burberry sequined thing, the neckline plunging far lower than anything she normally wore.

 

“Oh, gods, Marg, are you _sure_? It's gorgeous, but I don't know if I can pull this off.”

 

“Of course you can,” she called back through the door. “Come out, let me see.”

 

_Are you there? Tell me what you think, give me your honest opinion._

 

_Okay, go on, let's see you._ He was lounging on the deck, sunlight warming his skin and lulling him off into a rather pleasant nap. Well, it _was_.

 

Margaery was stooping to examine the selection of shoe options when Sansa stepped out, holding the skirt of the dress up so she could walk. “Oh, gods, Sansa, you look gorgeous!”

 

“I'm not sure, Marg, this thing's really low. It's a beautiful dress, though.” She stepped over to her mirror, pulling a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

 

_Well, whaddya think?_

 

He just barely managed not to choke. _Shit, little bird._

 

_That bad?_

 

_No,- no. You look-_ he searched for the appropriate word and found that everything came up short. He'd have to settle. _You look stunning._ A smile played at her lips, pleased with the compliment.

 

“Come on, doll, we're going to be late. The boys are waiting for us in the limo.” Margaery handed her the shoes she'd picked out and Sansa slipped them on, looping her arm through her friends' on their way out the door.

 

_Have fun, pretty little bird._

 

_Oh, shush._

 

* * *

 

_I never introduced you to people, did I?_

 

_No, not that it does much good, anyway._

 

_No, but then you'll know who to call people when we make fun of them later on._

 

_Ah. Okay, who've we got?_

 

She surveyed the room, dim lighting affording her to linger with her stares.

 

_There's Petyr Baelish. My mom's old friend. He gives me the creeps._ Petyr was standing next to some young woman, blatantly staring at her chest, his pointy beard wiggling as he spoke to her.

 

_I see why._

 

_And there's Tyrion, you've met him. That's his girlfriend, Shae._ They twisted their way across the room through the crowd to- _Ah, and there's Tywin. That's Joffrey's grandfather. Richest man this side of the Mississippi. That's why my family's pushing for this- they're loaded._ A waitress passed by her with a tray of champagne flutes and she grabbed one.

 

_That's a shite reason._

 

_Tell me about it. Next to him is Joffrey'_ s dear mommy _. Can't go too far without her sticking her nose in something she shouldn't. Let's see, who else do we have? You've seen my family- Jon and his girlfriend, Ygritte, standing by the window and wishing to be elsewhere. Not that I blame them._

 

_Coulda stayed home._

 

She downed her flute, leaving it on the next table she came across. _Robb and Jeyne, they're expecting baby number one in a few months. The first grandchild, my first nephew or niece!_ She couldn't help feeling a little excited about that.

 

_Congrats-_

 

_Ooh, and the spider. That's Varys,_ she grabbed another flute as she made her way around the room, _he knows_ everyone's _business._

 

_Not yours._

 

_No, I suppose not._ She nodded as she passed by him, a knowing look on his face.

 

_Those are your parents, right?_

 

Ned and Catelyn sat at one of the tables along the edge of the room, animatedly speaking with _Doctor Luwin. He's been our family doctor forever, though I don't know why he would be here. Eh,_ she shrugged it off.

 

_Looks like they're interested in what he has to say, though._ Sandor walked over to his kitchen, pulling the bottle of whiskey he'd found earlier from the top of the fridge and pouring a glass.

 

_So it would seem. Ah, Meryn Trant over there at the door. Private security for Joffrey._

 

_Can't protect himself?_

 

_Why do it yourself when you can hire someone to do it?_

 

_Classy guy, that boyfriend of yours._

 

_Not so much._

 

_Hmm, ah- the newly engaged couple, my beautiful sister and her_ darling _fiance. But you've met them._ She plunked herself down at the table in the furthest corner of the room, hoping no one would see her.

 

_Shall we play a game?_

 

_A game?_

 

_Yes, I propose a game._ She made eye contact with one of the waitresses passing by, signaling to _just keep them coming_ with her champagne glass.

 

_And what do you propose?_

 

_Truth or dare. Loser has to… wait, I've forgotten how this game works. There aren't losers in truth or dare are there?_

 

_Not that I've played it, but I would imagine not._

 

_Okay, first one to lie or chicken out of a dare loses._

 

_Agreed._

 

_Alright, you first. Truth or dare?_

 

_Dare._

 

_Take a shot._

 

_That's not really a dare, I've already got a glass._

 

_Well, let's get you drunker faster._

 

_Fine. Bottoms up._ He tapped the glass against the armrest of the couch and tossed it back, shuddering as the liquid burned down his throat. _Truth or dare?_ He poured himself another shot, settling back into the couch.

 

_Truth._

 

_Favorite color._

 

_Purple._

 

_Dare._

 

_What's the worst exercise you have your clients do?_

 

_Burpees._

 

_Do twenty of those._

 

_You're a cruel woman._

 

_You're the one who picked dare._ She could feel him going through the motions, her muscles burning from his exertion.

 

_Shit, I forgot about that. Ugh, you can stop now._

 

_Truth or dare?_ He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, flopping into the couch once more.

 

_Truth._

 

_Are you always going to pick truth? -That doesn't count as the question._

 

_Probably. I can't do many dares in here._

 

_Okay. Hmm… biggest fear?_ He tried to push down the flames that subconsciously crackled in his mind when he asked her.

 

_Being trapped in a cage._

 

_You know you're setting yourself up for that one, right?_

 

_Well, I guess I'm just being brave._

 

_No, I think that's being stupid, little bird._

 

_Hey! Don't call me stupid._

 

_I didn't call_ you _stupid, I called what you're_ doing _stupid. There's a difference._

 

_I don't think there is._

 

_Alright, let's agree to disagree. What else have you got? Dare._

 

She was feeling a little bolder with the alcohol in her system. _Strip._

 

_What good will that do you?_

 

_I can see what you can see._

 

_Cheeky little bird._ He reached behind his head, pulling off his shirt.

 

He looked down at his stomach, taut from the effort of doing the burpees. _Fffffuck, seriously? It's like you're Photoshopped. Do you have any fat on you?!_

 

_One, what's Photoshop, two, I workout for a living, so…_

 

_Photoshop is a- nevermind. Truth._

 

_Can I put my shirt back on?_

 

_No. Truth or dare?_

 

_Truth._

 

_Why teaching crossfit classes?_

 

_I trained to be a cop, but that didn't work out. So now I do this. It just kind of fell into my lap, and it's worked so far._

 

_A cop?_

 

_Yeah._

 

_Why'd you quit?_

 

_Another time, little bird. Truth or dare?_

 

_What do you think?_

 

_Dare it is. Go out and dance out there, go have fun instead of sitting in a corner and talking to your imaginary friend._

 

_Nope._ She took a long drink from her third glass.

 

_Then you lost._

 

_That's alright. At least I can hide a little longer._

 

_That's no way to spend the night._

 

_Isn't that what you're doing?_

 

_I'm not hiding, I just don't have anything else to do. And it's getting late, so pretty soon I'm going to bed._

 

_What time is it?_

 

_Almost midnight._

 

_Shit. Joffrey. He said the end of the year. It's getting awfully close to the end of the year… and I haven't said a word to him all night._

 

_Better go find him._

 

_I would really rather not._

 

_Then don't. Sit there and mope._ _But it's going to happen, anyway. Just rip off the Band-aid and get it over with. Or leave and he can fuck himself._

 

_Ha, no. That wouldn't go over well. Wait- you're all by yourself._

 

_Yeah?_

 

_Who's your New Year's kiss going to be?_

 

_What?_

 

_You know, your New Years kiss, it's supposed to bring luck or something._

 

_Never had one before, don't see why I should now._

 

_What time is it, really?_

 

_10:58._

 

She pulled out her phone and checked. _No, it's not, it says 11:58. Sandor! It's almost midnight!_

 

_You're an hour ahead of me._

 

_Oh, yeah…_

 

“Everyone, may I have your attention?” Joffrey tapped the microphone on the band's stage.

 

_Shit, here we go._

 

_Speak now or forever regret your peace, little bird._

 

_Yeah… hey, Sandor?_

 

_Hmm?_

 

_If you don't hear from me before midnight,_ she raised her fingers to her lips, pursing a kiss to them. _Your New Year's kiss._

 

He felt it through his fingers, the ghost of her skin's senses through his, and he raised his fingers to his lips just as she faded away.

* * *

* * *

* * *

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* * *

* * *

* * *

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

He felt something hard slamming into his back a few hours after he'd passed out on the couch, his hand still resting next to his mouth where he'd left it.

 

“Joffrey, _no._ I said _no,”_ she pleaded, half yelling, half sobbing.

 

“How _dare_ you deny me? In front of all those-”

 

The feed went blank, Sandor now wide awake and bewildered on his couch. _Little bird? What's going on?_ He had a sick feeling in his stomach that he _knew_ what was going on.

 

It was all garbled, he would be able to hear her one minute, but not see, then flipped- everything was all screwed up.

 

_What's going on, Sansa? SANSA!_

 

“NO, Joffrey, let me go-” He could feel vices around his arms, the lurch of being thrown backwards, her hands trying their best to swing at her aggressor-

 

“I'll _have_ you, whether you like it or not.” His wormy lips sneered, eyes clouded over with lust and power. “Don't you dare scream.” He was fumbling with something as she turned her head away, searching for something. Her phone, maybe? Sandor felt her dress being torn, ripped down the middle and pushed up her thighs. Felt her panic, her fear.

 

“Joffrey, don't-”

 

“Shut your whore mouth.” A sting as he slapped the back of his hand across her cheek. “Mother says am to do as I please.”

 

“Please, please, please-”

 

_SANSA-_ he was powerless on his couch, rage coursing through him _for_ her, his fist clenched at his sides and ready to throw them into this little shit's face.

 

_Help. Please. Help me. I don't know-_

 

And then he heard the familiar slide of material on metal; a leather belt sliding through its buckle, the pull of a zipper. _I'll kill him._ He wasn't sure how, but he felt her legs raise as he was thinking it, propelling them forward and landing a solid kick square in the middle of that _bastard's_ chest. Joffrey stumbled back, hitting the door behind him. He'd not even bothered to close it. Bewilderment flashed in his eyes, a challenge.

 

“That's alright, I like my women to fight, makes it all the more satisfying when I beat them down.” Sansa curled herself in a ball on the bed, shielding herself futilely from what she anticipated coming.

 

“What's going on in here?” Robb appeared in the doorway, pushing the door back a little farther and taking in the scene. “Sansa- Joffrey, what in the seven hells?”

 

She shut her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks as the sobs came so hard they were without sound. _Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods._

 

_Sansa, are you alright? What the hell happened?_

 

_Ohgodsohgods…_

 

He wanted nothing more than to throttle that little shit- push him up against the wall and strangle him, then wrap his arms around her and shield her from all this shit. He could hear the scuffle behind her, of Robb's fist making contact with Joffrey's jaw- _good-_ footsteps of more people appearing and Joffrey's high whining voice as he shouted incoherently when they pulled him away. There was a hand on her back, fingers stroking her hair.

 

“Oh, my poor girl, what has he done?” Her mother.

 

_Sansa, gods, Sansa. What the hell?_

 

She was powerless to speak, the sobs still wracking her body. _I denied him. He announced our engagement- he didn't even ask me!- and I denied him. He doesn't like being denied._

 

_Oh, gods, Sansa. Are you okay?_

 

_I think- I think I just need- my mom's here._

 

_Yeah.... yeah. Of course. I'm here if you need me. Gods, Sansa. I- I'm here for you._

 

_Yeah. I know._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo..... Yeah. I've been avoiding writing this kind of material because the consequences are going to _have_ to be dealt with, and I'm not sure how to go about doing that. It's one thing to write the scene, another to patch her back up, you know? But don't worry! We're over that nasty bit, and I don't plan on any more being in here.  
>  *The quote she says after he takes his shirt off is from Crazy Stupid Love, so that's not me. :)  
> *Margaery and Jaime happened because of that picture I found- they just look right together there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter 6 inspo](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/e7/18/1a/e7181aaa9215d8c5fdc8cefd30613053.jpg) I know it would bother me, so I'd just like to point out that that pic in the car is headed the wrong direction....  
> [Chapter 6 feels](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/99/7d/88/997d88a043c5af5b47e0b530b26bbb83.jpg)  
> [Picsetttttttt](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/51/e1/f6/51e1f64f2eb9cb987bdfb482c36ad93a.jpg) And I love you guys, so when we went up to Ragged Point today for a drive, I took pictures for you. So those ones in the middle are from today. :)
> 
>  
> 
> [For the very end of the chapter. :)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uQe70sys77A)

It was few and far between that he was able to get to her, now. They hadn't talked in a month. He'd gotten glimpses every now and then through her eyes- that night when it all happened and her mother holding her so tight he thought her bones might snap, Joffrey's arrest on the news in the background when she finally had the strength to make it into the living room some days later. The inside of a psychologist's office, dark wood and books lining the shelves behind the chaise. He'd wanted to eavesdrop so he could get the details about what had actually happened, but it felt invasive, and he knew it was wrong. Another violation to her. He wouldn't do that. He would be there if she wanted to talk, and he tried to will that over to her when she'd sit in front of the big picture window in her loft, staring despondently out across the city with Lady at her feet. He'd been there when she'd insisted to her parents that she go back home, back to school, back to normal. He was proud of her for that. For being strong.

 

But he worried about her nonetheless. It felt like she was just going through the motions, not really living. The only times he'd see her were in class, or heading into the shiny glass of the campus health center, or sitting in the chair in front of the window. She didn't go out otherwise. He was worried about the slope she was heading down. So full of life before, and now so void of emotion.

 

The day finally came when the fresh rays of dawn turned the white beams of his ceiling pink in the sunrise, and he tried to talk to her. He'd been waiting for her, giving her time to come to him if she wanted to. But she needed a distraction. She needed to get out of the house. He stretched across the bed, running his hands up his face and pulling his hair back into an elastic, digging through the drawers of his dresser to find a pair of jeans and a clean shirt.

 

The engine of his truck roared to life in the dew of the morning, rumbling happily as it warmed up. He tried to feel around, see if she was awake. He found her in her bed, curled up in the covers and her face buried in her pillow.

 

_Hey._

 

… _..hey._

 

_You awake little bird?_

 

He stepped into the truck, turning off the power on the radio as he slid over the vinyl of the bench seat. He was almost out of his neighborhood when he heard her stirring, sleep still heavy in her thoughts.

 

_Yeah._

 

She could feel the pull of his smile as he turned onto the main road.

 

_Feel like going for a drive?_

 

_What?_

 

_I'm going for a drive, you want to come?_

 

_Mmm, I guess._ She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He felt her feet hit the fuzzy rug under her bed, the warm fleece of her slippers as she slid them on. _What time is it?_

 

He checked his watch, _around eight your time._ She groaned, heading out of her bedroom and making for the stairs to the loft. _Hey, go make yourself some coffee._

 

_Fuck off._

 

Ouch. _Hey, I'm going to go get myself some, I just thought we could have coffee together._

 

_Oh… sorry._ She shuffled into the kitchen, loading the coffee maker slowly and grumbling under her breath.

 

_It's okay._ He picked up his coffee from the little shop on the main street and headed outside of town. The bluffs were empty of people this early in the morning, and the birds calling mixed with the waves and made a peaceful soundtrack in the background.

 

_Where is this place?_

 

_It's just north of town. The bluffs._

 

_Oh._ He could feel her thinking, trying to think of something to say, feeling obligated to talk but not wanting to.

 

_It's okay, you don't have to say anything. Just thought it might be nice to get out of the house._

 

_Thanks._

 

They sat there after Sandor walked the short dirt path out to the bluff and perched on the edge, after Sansa retreated back to her blankets. They sipped their coffee in silence, listening to the waves gently roll in beneath them. The clouds were cotton puffs behind the fog, muting the sounds of the awakening town in the distance. He wasn't sure how long they sat there, but his coffee was long gone by the time she said anything.

 

_Thank you for taking me. It's nice there._

 

_Of course, little bird._

 

_I just- I don't want to talk about it._

 

_It's okay, you don't have to. Not unless you want._

 

_Where were you gonna go drive?_

 

_I don't know, I don't normally have a plan? Where do you want me to go?_

 

_North._

 

He wondered what north she meant. _Ever been to Big Sur?_

 

_No, I've never been out of Montana. My parents keep a pretty short leash._

 

_You free, then?_

 

_From what?_

 

_I meant plans, but…_

 

_Yeah, I don't have anything to do._

 

_Wanna go, then?_

 

_Sure._

 

He stood, dusting the dirt off his jeans and heading back through the sage brush to his truck. In ten minutes, they were out of city limits, the 101 empty of all the normal commuters this early on a Saturday. The waves crashed to their left over the rocky outcroppings, wind whipping the loose strands of his hair in his face through the open window. She read the road signs as they continued their journey, _Mariposa Reina, Nojoqui falls, Orcutt…_ They'd been on the road a while, traveling in comfortable silence as he drove and she watched through his eyes, and though he would never tell her, he wanted nothing more than for her to be next to him instead of just inside his head.

 

_How far is it?_

 

_Are you asking me 'are we there, yet?'_ He teased, and she reminded him of Bronn's kid, always impatient on car rides, even if it was just across town.

 

_I'm just curious._

 

_Depends on where we end up going. All the way to Monterey is about another three hours. Just the start is probably another hour, hour and a half._

 

_Oh. Hey, can I ask you something?_

 

_Shoot._

 

_How come you decided not to finish your training?_

 

_The police training?_

 

_Yeah._

 

_It's not the most uplifting story._

 

_I'm not in the most uplifting of moods. Can't do too much more damage._

 

_No, Sansa, I'm not sure you want to hear it._

 

_I want to know more about you. I think that the story about your career change might be a good start._

 

_Don't say I didn't warn you._

 

_I won't. I promise._

 

He inhaled deeply, wishing he'd just told her 'no,' another time, another time... _I was almost done with training, almost finished with the academy. I was on a ride along when we got a call._ _10-71, a shooting. When we got there, there were other units already on the scene._

 

She listened intently, her interest piqued. _Was everyone okay?_

 

_There had been a break-in, a family's residence. It was the middle of the night. They were all asleep. The intruder had broken in and beaten the children to death in their beds-_ he heard her sharp intake of breath, her shock. _Little bird, you don't want to hear this._

 

_No, no, go on. I want to hear your story. Those poor kids._

 

_Are you sure?_

 

_Yeah, go on. What then? Were the parents okay?_

 

_No one was alive when we got there. The parents had been killed, too, the mother-_ he hesitated, and she gathered his meaning. What had almost happened to her. _And the intruder had shot himself._

 

_Oh, gods, Sandor. I'm sorry you had to witness that._

 

_Aye. But I'd expected as much, I knew what I was getting into. At that time, I was in LA, and it's a lot nastier down there than where I am now._ She could tell there was something he wasn't saying. Some crucial detail.

 

_And?_

 

_And then the coroners came for the bodies, I recognized one of them. It was my brother. He'd been the intruder. He'd always been a sick fuck, but… I didn't think he had it in him. I still don't know why he did it, but I never knew why that bastard did anything, anyway. He'd always been an asshole._

 

_Oh,_ Gods _, Sandor. I'm so, so sorry. I… I don't even know what to say._

 

_I've made my peace with it, little bird._ He tried to soothe her nerves, rattled from the story. He knew he shouldn't have told her. _That was almost five years ago. Truth is, I kind of knew he'd meet a similar fate- just didn't expect him to do_ that _. Truth is, he'd always been a bully. The world is better off without him, cruel as that is for me to speak ill of a dead man._

 

_Joffrey's a bully._

 

_Aye, that he is._

 

_But he's locked away now. I think his family knew he was messed up, his grandfather looking for a reason to get him out of their family business. It was surprisingly easy to get him sent to prison._

 

_That's good. He deserves worse than that for laying a hand on you, believe me. But at least he can't hurt you, now._

 

_I shouldn't have worn that dress. I_ knew _I shouldn't have worn that dress._ He pulled over to the side of the road, a dirt cloud rolling around him as the tires left the pavement.

 

_Sansa,_ he looked up in the rearview mirror, making eye contact with himself- with her- and holding it. _You can't blame yourself for that. He's a sadistic little shit, and whether you were wearing that or three day old sweatpants, it doesn't change that fact._ He was glad he'd subconsciously hid _that_ side of his face out of frame. No need to put that on her now.

 

_I know, I just feel like it's my fault somehow._

 

_You can't blame yourself for that. Don't ever feel like you're responsible for someone being a twat._

 

_Thank you._

 

_For what?_

 

_For saying that. You'd be surprised what some people have been saying._

 

_Then they can go fuck themselves._ That warranted a little chuckle from her.

 

_I suppose so._

 

_I just don't want you to have to feel threatened by someone so small as Joffrey again._

 

_Ha, maybe I should train with you._ She was all joke about that.

 

_Maybe you should._

 

_Yeah, maybe…_

 

_So you went back to school…_

 

_Yeah, mom and dad didn't want me to. Arya offered to come along. But I ended up just bringing Lady back with me, and the school's let me bring her with me to class. It's helped. I feel safer now._

 

_That's good._

 

_And I talked to a counselor at my college and we've arranged for me to be able to graduate this spring._

 

_That's great news!_

 

_Yeah, I was originally going to graduate with a couple different minors, but I decided to drop them. It would take too much time, and I just want to be done._

 

_And then what are you going to do?_

 

_Travel, maybe._

 

_Where would you go?_ He pulled off the exit for highway 1, heading still farther north so he could show her the rocky slopes of the Big Sur highway. _Travel the world?_

 

_I don't know, really. I just want to get away from here. California looks nice._

 

_Aye, that it is._

 

_Where would you go if you were to travel?_

 

He rolled the thought around in his mind, not sure if he should reveal it to her. He didn't want to startle her, so he settled on vagueness. _The mountains might be cool._

 

_They are pretty this time of year. The snow on the mountains north of town glow in the sunset. It's gorgeous._

 

_I bet._

 

_I'll show you tonight if there's a good sunset._

 

_I'd like that._

 

She was a little sheepish, her voice hesitant. _Would you ever want to come up here?_

 

It was what he'd wanted to say in the first place. _Aye, maybe someday._

 

_Yeah, maybe._ He pulled his truck off the highway into the parking lot at Ragged Point and headed past the shops and restaurants to the overlook. He heard her catch her breath as he leaned on the railing, watching the waves roll in and crash into the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. _It's like you're at the end of the world._

 

_We are, kind of. The end of the continent, at least._

 

_It's beautiful._ The sun was finally out, sparkling off of the infinite ripples on the surface. _Peaceful. Sandor? Thank you for bringing me with you. You were right, I needed a distraction from everything here._

 

_You're welcome. Glad I could help._

 

_I think I should probably go though… take a shower…_ She looked over at the pile of fur on her bed. _Should probably get Lady out, too._

 

_She'd probably like that._

 

_I'll talk to you later?_

 

_Aye, little bird. I'll be here._ She faded away, leaving him with the unfinished thought in his mind, unheard. _I'll always be here._

 

* * *

 

He was just finishing up cooking his dinner when she came through a few days later, singing along to the song wafting through the kitchen from his stereo. He hadn't even realized she was there, how long she'd been there, listening to the songs flip through the music in his library.

 

... _Babe, there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree?_

 

He smiled at her song choice, the parallel of the words… her voice as it carried in the air of her house.

 

... _Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago_  
_Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword_  
 _Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know_  
 _I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door…_

 

He walked over to his phone sitting on top of the stereo, pausing the stream of music after she was done.

 

_You're beautiful. All of you._

 

_So are you._

 

He felt her blush in the silence that surrounded him, and that was enough.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, something I would like to point out: Sansa's been working on her own shit and sorting through what's happened to her. It was really important to me that she was doing this on her own, and not leaning on him to make her better. A support system is always needed and helpful, but you need to be able to get that sorted on your own, at the end of the day. So when you read, and you're like, woah, woah, what's going on? That's what's going on. :)  
> Also, let it be assumed that they've been talking quite a bit since their car drive, to build a little more on their foundation. I just didn't think it was necessary to include every conversation they may have had. But if it's something important, I'll make sure it's written in there (like how Gregor is a -big- shit).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sweetness!](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/1c/0a/d4/1c0ad4471b796f84a02e15c135245c17.jpg)   
>  [Chapter 7 picset](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/18/5b/1f/185b1f6ee924b45687d6e160ee1e6a15.jpg)   
>  [OMG, the feels.](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/c4/34/d2/c434d20fcfdf01ebf693c9c1969447de.jpg)
> 
>  
> 
> [The song that's on her Pandora station at the end of the chapter, though I don't reference it. Perhaps you can play it and pretend. :)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CBjByOWOOgY)

* * *

_Do you have plans Thursday,_ she'd asked him. _No,_ he'd replied, not thinking anything of it. And then she'd asked for his address and his heart had skipped a beat. Now, as he stood at his front door, a red, white and blue USPS box in his hands, he understood why she'd asked. It was her writing. He'd seen it enough times while she took notes in class, and he ran his thumb over the indentations the pen had made, feeling foolish for feeling so mystified that he was holding something she'd once held.

 

_Go on, open it._ She was sitting in class, not paying attention to what she was supposed to, watching instead as his fingers pulled on the tab at the end of the box.

 

_What's this?_ He shook the contents out on his counter, hundreds of pieces of little heart confetti spilling out with the tupperware box and card.

 

_It's your Valentine's day present, silly._

 

_My what?_

 

_Valentine's day._

 

_What-_

 

_Don't tell me you haven't heard of Valentine's day. For gods' sake, Sandor._

 

_Oh, shit, little bird. Is_ today _Valentine's day?!_

 

_Yeah…_

 

_Oh, I'm so, so sorry, I have a date tonight._ She felt her heart stopping, falling down into her stomach.

 

_Oh. Okay. Well, you… you guys have fun._

 

He was working on opening the tupperware, the scent of lemons erupting as the plastic lid unsnapped from the container. His lips pulled up in a smirk, the low rumble of his laughter vibrating in his chest. _I'm just kidding._ _Like that would ever happen._

 

Her sigh of relief turned a few heads in her classroom, a smile spreading over her lips. _You're terrible._

 

_I know._ He popped one of the bars from the container in his mouth. _These are delicious, what are they?_

 

_Lemon bars. They're my favorite._

 

_Well, they're really good. And I'm not a sweets kind of guy._

 

_Thank you, I made them._

 

He swallowed, the swirl of lemon and powdered sugar still on his tongue, and he pretended that that might be what she'd taste like. _You made these?_

 

_Of course!_

 

_That's- you shouldn't have done that._

 

_Oh, it was my pleasure. I made some for myself, too._ _But… I've gotta get back to class. Talk to you later?_

 

_Sure, little bird._

 

She faded out, returning to her studies and leaving him standing in his kitchen, the smell and the taste of her surrounding him. He propped the card up on the container, sitting proudly in the middle of his counter. She had no idea what she was doing to him, and the water pouring out of his showerhead was quite a bit colder than it normally was when he stepped into it a few minutes later.

 

* * *

 

The concrete floor was cold under his feet as he paced over it, trying to figure out _what the fuck she meant_ by all this. His fingers still held the spine of her card, still ran over the little heart stickers on the front. He read and reread her words delicately scrawled on the inside. Thanking him for being there for her and for, really, being her best friend. He ran his hand over his face, hoping that rubbing his skin would polish out some clarity from the situation. She'd been getting a lot better, working through the New Years incident with her counselor, joining a self-defense class, focusing on her studies and wrapping up her school work.

 

And yet, she still clung to him. He wasn't quite sure why. Wasn't quite sure why he was being so nice to her. How she'd somehow wiggled her way through his walls, far past where most women dared to venture. _But she still hasn't seen my face. And that'll be sure to scare her away._ Involuntarily, he called to mind the girls he'd tried to woo over the years, most flat out laughing him off if they were brave enough, the others just avoiding eye contact entirely. Once in a great while, the rare flicker of hope as a woman smiled at him in the grocery store, only for the smile to fall when he turned and she saw the other half of the man she was eyeing. Surely, it would be no different. Why would it be? She was perfect, and he was a monster.

 

* * *

 

Clothes lay strewn across her bed, her hand on her hip, evaluating the garments in front of her. She couldn't decide what to wear. It seemed like such a silly thing to worry about. But somehow tonight felt special, whether it was because it was Valentine's day or because she'd given him a gift, or because he'd liked it, or… or… she wasn't sure. But the butterflies in her stomach fluttered and her nervous fidgeting wouldn't stop, no matter how hard she tried or how many cups of chamomile she drank. She looked over at the outfits on her bed- a red tulle shirt, gold sequined top, heels; pink skinny jeans and a cream sweater; and, giving up, pajamas. She decided she needed some input.

 

_What are you wearing?_

 

He'd gone to the gym to burn off the thoughts that kept swimming around his head, but it was doing no good. He paused, kettlebell coming dangerously close to smacking him between the legs. _Clothes?_

 

_Could you be more specific?_

 

_Uh… shorts?_

 

_You're just wearing shorts?_

 

_I'm at the gym, Sansa, what's up?_

 

_I can't decide what to wear._

 

_For what?_

 

_Our date._

 

_Who's date?_ Though he felt his heart fall a little, thinking that he was supposed to have plans with her and now she was going out with someone else. Though, he supposed he'd teased her before about the same thing… it was only fair.

 

_Ours. You know, you and me._

 

_We have a date?_

 

_I thought we did. Weren't we “meeting up” later?_

 

_I didn't think that was a date._

 

_Well, I guess it's really not…_

 

_You're confusing me, Sansa. What's going on?_

 

_I… I just thought… it would be nice to have someone to spend the night with, you know. I've never been alone on Valentine's day before. There was always_ someone _. Joff,_ she shuddered at the name _, or my family, sometimes Arya would come out and we'd have a ladies night before Gendry._

 

_It's not so bad, trust me._

 

_I don't want to be alone, Sandor._

 

_You won't be alone, little bird. What did you want to do?_

 

_I don't really know. Have dinner?_

 

_And how do you suggest doing that?_

 

_I don't know. I could go get myself some dinner and you could go get yourself some dinner and then we could eat it and pretend that we're in the same room._

 

_What are we having?_

 

_I didn't know you were a man for such plans._

 

_I'm not, usually. But this seems important to you._

 

_It kind of is…_

 

_So what are we having?_

 

_I don't think that matters so much. Just… get a bottle of wine while you're out, ok?_

 

_Alright…_

 

_See you at… 7? Would 7 work?_

 

_Yeah, 7 works._

 

_Okay, then._ He could feel her smile and do a little happy dance as she faded away, presumably to go get ready for their “date.”

 

* * *

 

_So, want to play another game?_ They were already halfway through their dinner, Sansa cozied up under the blankets on her couch, having settled on pajamas because they weren't going out anywhere, and Sandor reclining on his, long legs stretched out across the length of it.

 

_Sure. But not truth or dare. I don't want to end up without my shirt again._

 

_Why not?_

 

_Sansa…_

 

_Fine. Never Have I Ever._

 

_What's that?_

 

_You say “never have I ever,” and then fill in the blank, and then whoever_ has _, puts down a finger, and the first one with all ten fingers down loses._

 

_That sounds like a pretty shit game._

 

_Bear with me._

 

_Alright, what have you got?_

 

_Never have I ever… been skydiving._ Neither put their fingers down. _Okay, your turn._

 

_Never have I ever been to Montana._

 

_That was an easy one._ She shielded the _you should come! You can stay here! We could meeeeet_ thoughts screaming in her head from him. _Never have I ever kissed a girl._

 

_That would have made for an interesting story_ , as he put a finger down.

 

_Oh, shush._

 

_...had my picture taken._

 

She lowered her finger, incredulous. _Seriously? How is that even possible?_

 

_Never needed to._

 

_You must be joking. Not even as a kid?_

 

_My parents weren't very sentimental._

 

_Alright, surfed._

 

Finger down. _I think you're purposefully picking the obvious ones._

 

_I think that's half the point. Had a girlfriend._

 

He didn't move. _Sandor, seriously? I would think you're lying if I couldn't read that you're not._

 

_Yeah, well. Fine, touch_ _é_ _, had a boyfriend._

 

_Ugh, don't remind me._

 

_Oh, shit, sorry._

 

_No, it's okay, I'm over it. He's a twat._

 

_Yeah, he is._

 

_Been to California._

 

_Easy one, again. Made a Facebook account._

 

_I still think you should._

 

_Then I'd have to find pictures, little bird._

 

_But then I could see you._

 

_Best not. What else have you got?_

 

_I can't think of any. Hang on, let me look some up._ She scrolled through her phone, checking Google for its input. _Ooh, these are kind of raunchy._

 

_Oh, gods._

 

_Never have I ever fantasized about getting revenge._ They both put a finger down. _Really, what happened?_

 

_Gregor was a bully, remember?_

 

_Oh, yeah._

 

_Ok, what else have you got over there?_

 

_Never have I ever had a crush on my best friend._ They both put one down. _Ooh, who was she? Tell me about her!_

 

_Next question._

 

_You're no fun. Let's see_ , she flipped through the questions, not satisfied with the intensity of juicy details she might be able to scrounge up. _Oh, here's a good one. Never have I ever sang the entirety of “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen._

 

_Oh, gods, you're not going to trick me into that._

 

_Come on!_

 

_No. You're welcome to, though._

 

_Nah, what else have we got. Never have I ever registered for an online dating website._

 

_Neeext._

 

_Maybe you should try it, mister “I don't have a girlfriend.”_

 

_If I can't figure out Facebook, you really think I can figure out a dating website?_

 

_True._ _OK, told the love of my life I miss her._

 

_Keep going._

 

_Had sex with two people in the same night._

 

_See, now these are the raunchy ones. But, no, keep going._

 

_Dude, seriously, you need to get out more._

 

_Are you encouraging womanizing?_

 

_No, just getting you some company_ , she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. _How about:_ _had sex with someone I wasn’t attracted to because I wanted to get laid that badly._

 

_You're really going for it with these one, aren't you? Making me sound like an animal... Keep going._

 

_Never have I ever gotten a happy ending._

 

_In what sense?_

 

_Oh, my gods!_

 

_I'm just saying. Nah, keep going._

 

_We're only at four a piece! Ugh, okay, what else is here. Oh! I've got one._

 

_Shoot._

 

_Never have I ever seen your face._

 

_Sansa…_

 

_What? I haven't!_

 

_I don't think I should._

 

_Why? Why are you so afraid of me?_

 

_I'm not afraid of you._

 

_Then what is it?_

 

_Just- drop it._ And like that, he was gone.

 

* * *

 

Sansa was sitting on her bed, having cleaned up her kitchen and settled in for the night. She still couldn't figure out what his problem was. He was so defensive about it. Her phone flipped through the Pandora station she'd put on, trying to distract herself from his mood. From how he'd just left her.

 

_Hey._

 

_Hey._

 

_I'm sorry for just leaving._

 

_Yeah, what the hells, Sandor?_

 

_Hey, you don't need to be all snippy about it._

 

_Well, you just_ left. _What am I supposed to be?_

 

_Look, I'm sorry. Will you go to your mirror?_ She couldn't see anything on his end, just black, as she stepped in front of her mirror. She was still in her pajamas, _Go Griz!_ with a pawprint on the front of the heather grey shirt, black lounge pants and a messy bun. Nothing impressive. Certainly nothing worthy of a date.

 

_What's this about?_

 

_I need to see you... I… I don't want to scare you away._

 

_You won't scare me away. Sandor, nothing you could do would scare me away._

 

_I wouldn't be too sure about that. It's scared plenty of other women away before you._

 

_Well, I'm not them._

 

_I know you're not, little bird._ He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable. He braced his hands on the counter in his bathroom, bowing his head in shame. Slowly, his eyes opened, he raised his head, and he heard her silence, felt the sudden stop of her heart. His was racing, panic from what she might do, what she might say. His jaw clenched out of its own volition, chomping at the bit.

 

_Sandor…_

 

_And now you know._

 

_Sandor, I…_

 

_It's okay, little bird. It's been nice knowing you, I understand you want to go now._

 

_Sandor, stop._ Her eyes met what he assumed to be his in her projection of him, her hand reaching out to touch what must be the rough skin of the scar across his face. ... _Sandor, don't you_ ever _think that I would leave you. Those other women never got to see what I've seen, what you've let me see. And that's their loss, truly._

 

His mouth had gone dry, at first from the onset of the fear of losing her, then at her words. Her kind, kind words. How could it be that she was so perfect? His lips couldn't form the words that wouldn't come to him, and so he just stared into his own eyes, hoping that somehow it looked like he was looking at her, too.

 

“Sandor, I…” she chewed her lip, played with the hem of her shirt.

 

“Little bird?”

 

“I love you.”

 

And if he thought his heart had been racing before, it was nothing compared to this. To the sudden lurch as it simultaneously slowed and took off again. His nervousness at her reaction was nothing compared to his sweaty palms on the counter, the drop in his stomach, the realization that those were the words he'd been looking for.

 

“I love you, too, Sansa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeeeee!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this one's gotta last you a while, cause I don't know when I'll next have time to write the block of chapter that I want to write. And I know it's short. :( Savor it!
> 
> [Chapter 8 board. :)](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/55/22/63/55226398452846b038f19f93e841169e.jpg)

She stared at her mirror, the faint ghost of his image in front of her. Tall, unbelievably tall, so much that she had to crane her neck to look into his eyes. Long black hair tied at the back into a messy bun that would make any girl jealous, thick beard covering a strong jaw, jagged on his left side from the scar. Stormy grey eyes peering back at her, guarded, wary, softening as they watched hers. She felt the words bubble up in her, the sudden manifestation of the feelings she'd only recently been aware of.

 

“I love you.”

 

She saw the hard plane of his chest deflate as he watched her, judging if she was being honest in an instant, saw his hands as the gripped the counter flex, his eyes melt as he met hers.

 

“I love you, too, Sansa.”

 

The pull to reach out to him was as strong as anything she'd ever felt, to touch him, cup his cheek in her palm, hug him, _anything_. To feel him against her skin, feel the thrum of his heart against her fingertips instead of just in her head. To hold him, wrap her arms around his neck and never let go.

 

They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, the ghost of each other in front of them, words hanging in the air like the fresh-sweet smell of the lemon bars she'd made. Finally, she cleared her throat, stalling for time as she figured out what to say.

 

“Where does this leave us?”

 

“Twelve hundred miles away from each other.”

 

“That can easily be solved.”

 

“I'm not sure how easily.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you're in school, and you've got that to do, and I've got the gym.”

 

“Yeah…” she hesitated, not knowing now if he was really into this as much as she knew she was. “But I graduate this spring.”

 

“Then we'll see what happens then.”

 

Suddenly, the weight of knowing the distance of the days before she would actually be able to realize those wishes, that desperate need to touch him, was unbearable. Her voice was barely a whisper, cracking almost as the words came out, “But that's so far away.”

 

“No need to get bogged down with anything while you're finishing up school.” Damn his practicalities. But deep down, she knew he was right. Knew that she needed to focus on finishing. Proving to herself that she could do it. But she couldn't decide which meant more to her, and so he decided for her. “It wouldn't do either of us any good to distract you. There will be time enough later.”

 

“Do you promise?”

 

“Promise.”

 

She turned, settling back into her bed and pulling a pillow into the curve of her body, wishing that the volume of fluff was his arm wrapped around her. _Tomorrow then?_

 

_Tomorrow._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No picset for this chapter. Waaaah! :(

“No, Tyrion. _Fuck_ no.”

 

“I'm afraid I don't understand your resistance, Hound.”

 

“For one, because that's not my fucking name, and for two, what the hell do you think I'm going to do with my _business_ for the week that I'd be out there?”

 

“I'm sure that you would be able to close up shop for a week. Your- what do you call them? Are they students?- could handle it without you.” That wasn't the point. “I don't understand your hesitation.” because that's where _she is_ , he wanted to scream.

 

“And I don't understand why you can't just find somebody else, _little man.”_

 

“Hey, the money of little men spends the same as that of men of stature such as- well, yourself. And besides, you come highly recommended by a dear friend of mine.” Dammit, Bronn. He pushed his palms against the cold concrete of his counters, bracing against it. “It would only be for a week.”

 

“I said no.”

 

“I would fly you out.”

 

“What part of _no_ don't you understand?”

 

“It's a lovely time to be in the mountains.”

 

“Fucking. No.”

 

“I would reimburse you for the time that your gym would have to be closed.”

 

“That's not the point.”

 

“Then what's your hesitation? Please, enlighten me!” He could tell that the half-man was getting aggravated. Good. Little shit used to getting his way all the time. Sharing blood with that _other_ little shit that did _that_ to _her_.

 

“Maybe I just don't want to- ever thought of that?”

 

“Oh, I quite understand doing and not doing things that you want to. Believe me. My father's a bit of a tight-ass. But on this, I must implore you, you simply _must_ come up. I'm afraid there's nobody else to do the job.”

 

Sandor leaned against his sink, his arms now crossed in front of him. The front door squeaked on its hinges as it swung open in the background, and he stared at the half-man, quietly seething.

 

“What seems to be the problem here, boys?” Bronn strode into the kitchen like he owned the place, slinging a 6-pack onto the counter next to his fuming friend.

 

“This _Hound_ of yours won't listen to reason.”

 

Bronn eyed him appraisingly, trying to find some nick in the armor to be able to break him down. Sandor glared back at him. He handed a beer to Tyrion, then Sandor, nonchalant in his movements. “Lols and the kid and I'll be there.”

 

“Just what I want- to be the fourth wheel tagging along on a family vacation.”

 

“You wouldn't be.”

 

“Yeah, right.”

 

“Come on, Sandor. Quit being such a dick and come up with us. Tyrion could really use the help setting up the gym at the resort, and you're the best guy to do it.” Sandor squinted at him past the bottom of the beer bottle as he tipped it back.

 

“Still no.”

 

“What would we need to do to get you to change your mind?”

 

“I don't see why it's such a big deal.”

 

“Alright, here's a novel idea: what about the people that come to the gym? Huh? What are they gonna fucking do when I'm gone for a week?”

 

“Oh, please, don't think yourself so important to those people that you can't take a vacation.”

 

“It wouldn't be a vacation, Bronn, I would be working. And yeah, actually, I do. They have a schedule. And so help me if I'm the one to fuck it up.”

 

“That's a bullshit reason and you know it.”

 

“Well, that's the reason I have, so you'll have to deal with it. The both of you.”

 

Tyrion piped up, edging into the fray, “I would fly them all out.”

 

Both men turned to him, disbelief plain on their faces.

 

“Yes, it would be no problem. And then you would have no reason not to come up.” Bronn clapped his hand, laughing at his friend. Sandor glared at him, still.

 

“I can't-”

 

“Good, then it's settled. Let's see- I think the second week of April is when all the University kids take their spring break, so that should probably be the time to come out. Then we can just do all the training of the seasonal employees and the gym set up all in one go.”

 

“I-”

 

“No, no, I'll hear none of it. Bronn- I'll be in touch. Sandor- good to- well, I suppose not. Good day.” And with that, he grabbed the bottle Bronn had offered him and headed for the door.

 

“I never said I would, half man.”

 

“Oh, you will. You'll come around.”

 

He shook his head as the front door slammed closed behind Tyrion. _What the fuck even just happened?_

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Picset!](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ba/5f/88/ba5f880c3759602af47ef2e80c35bc78.jpg)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, my thoughts on Arya: similar to the rest of the character development in this story, she's grown up in a different world than that of Westeros. So she and Sansa have been able to grow up together, to be much closer than they are in the books/TV show.
> 
> That is all. Carry on. :)

Sansa and Arya sat sprawled on the floor in her loft, ripped-out magazine pictures and paper samples and seating charts arranged around them, haphazardly in their organization.

 

“I don't know why I'm even doing this- I should just hand it over to mom to plan.”

 

“Because deep down you care about your wedding.”

 

“I just never saw myself here, you know?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I never thought that this would be my life,” she spread her hands across the floor in front of her, indicating all the wedding-themed frills.

 

“Well, you also never thought you'd meet some boy that you'd fall in love with.” _Neither did I_ , she thought. “You were always more concerned with climbing trees and getting in trouble to listen to anything mom wanted of you. A pretty house, a good family, little babies running around you.”

 

“Oh, shut up. There still won't be any babies, you,” she shook her finger at her sister's face. “Don't you go encouraging mom.”

 

“Oh, come on! I would make a great aunt!”

 

“I know you would. They're just not for me.”

 

“Better watch out, you'll jinx yourself.”

 

“Besides, that was always more your thing. Or at least it was, before… well, when you were younger.” Before Joffrey ruined everything, she meant.

 

“Doesn't necessarily mean it's not still in the cards.”

 

“Ooh, sounds like you found yourself a maaaaan! Do tell!”

 

“Oh, no, that's not how it is, sis.”

 

“What do you mean? You don't still want your perfect little house, your beautiful little babies underfoot, a king to match your queen?”

 

She giggled, remembering her childhood fantasy: queen of the castle, little golden-haired babies, courtesy of Joffrey, of course, back in those days. “No, dear, I've outgrown that.”

 

“Well, now what do you want?”

 

“For you to make up your mind about invitations!” For Sandor to stop sulking. To talk to me. To stop thinking that I'll somehow just up and leave. To get over himself. Gods, it's been weeks.

 

“Why don't you make a decision for me, then?”

 

“That's no fun! You have to get into it if you're going to plan it at all.” Arya looked back at her sister, grey eyes begging mercy. “Ugh, fine. Close your eyes and point.”

 

Arya closed them, hands splayed out above the pieces of paper on the floor. “So about this boy you've fallen in love with...”

 

“What?!”

 

“Sis, I can see it on your face.” Her hands fell on one of the invitations, the decision made.

 

“See what on my face, exactly?”

 

“I've known you my whole life. I know when you're lying, like just now when you denied there was a man. And besides, you just seem happier nowadays.”

 

“That could be because I'm almost done with school, you know. Did you ever think of that? Or that I've gotten to a better place after… New Years.”

 

“Yeah, it could be. Or there's also the fact that you're so vehemently changing the subject and trying to draw attention away from what's so obvious.”

 

“I just don't see how it's obvious.”

 

“It is. So spill. Who is he? How'd you meet? Gonna bring him home to mom?”

 

“Oh, my gods, Arya. There isn't a guy!”

 

“Come on, sis, quit lying.” Arya pushed the papers in front of her in a pile, packing them up.

 

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you, anyway.”

 

“Try me. Tall, dark, and handsome?” Sansa was quiet, her eyes downcast, and Arya stilled her movements. “Oh, my gods! I was right! There is a guy!”

 

“I thought you were _just sure_ that there was!”

 

“Well, I would never get it out of you otherwise. So, come on! Who is heeeee?”

 

“He's not from around here.”

 

“How'd you meet?”

 

“Uh...” Sansa stood up, walked over to the picture window and just stared at the lights of the city flickering on for a moment. “I told you, you wouldn't believe it even if I told you.”

 

“Try me.”

 

“It's kind of a long distance thing.”

 

“I never pegged you for that sort of thing, but go on.”

 

“We talk a lot.”

 

“That's good...”

 

“I haven't actually met him.”

 

“ _What?_ How long have you known him?”

 

“Like, the beginning of December, I think?”

 

“Well, that's, what, four months? Isn't that a decent enough amount of time that you guys could meet up?”

 

“I don't think it'd be that easy.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Cause he's in California, and I'm here. And I have school, and he owns a business.”

 

“So?”

 

“So, neither of us can just pick up and leave.”

 

“Spring break's coming up, you know.”

 

“I don't know. We haven't talked in a while. I don't know if he'd want to see me.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I kind of… I kind of told him I loved him.”

 

“What? Oh, my god, Sansa!”

 

“I know, I know.”

 

“You haven't even met him and you told him you loved him?!”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Did he say it back?”

 

“He did, actually. I didn't think he would, but he did...”

 

“I don't see what the problem is, Sansa.”

 

“I don't know, he's just kind of pushed me away the past couple weeks, and I don't know what I did.”

 

“Oh. Wait, how did you say you two got to talking?”

 

“I didn't.”

 

“Then do tell.”

 

“It's really weird.”

 

“Gods, Sans, would you just get on with it?”

 

“I can hear him.”

 

“What, you mean like when you guys talk on the phone? Skype?”

 

“No, like in my head.”

 

“What?”

 

“I can hear him. In my head. And he can hear me…”

 

“I don't- I… what?”

 

“I don't know how it happened, I just… one day, he was just there.”

 

“Sansa, are you feeling okay? You know this sounds crazy, right?”

 

“You're the one who told me you wanted to know! Who made me tell you!”

 

“But, Sansa… In your head?”

 

“Yeah!” She was growing a little angry with her sister now, how just moments ago, it was fine; a long distance relationship with someone that she just met, and now she knew _how_ they met, it was suddenly crazy.

 

“Sansa, if you're hearing voices in your head, you should probably see someone.”

 

_Gods, Sandor, if anytime would be the time to say something, now would be that time…_

 

“I don't need to see someone. And I'm not hearing _voices_ , I'm hearing Sandor.”

 

“Sandor?”

 

“Yeah, Sandor.” She crossed her arms over her chest, indignant at her little sister.

 

_Gods, where are you?_

 

“And this guy's _real_?”

 

“Of course! I swear I'm not crazy!”

 

“That's what all the crazy people say, you know.”

 

“Arya. Stop it. You know me. You know I'm not crazy.”

 

“Can you prove it?”

 

“Prove what?”

 

“That this guy's real?”

 

_SANDOR!_

 

“He has a gym, I can show you the website.”

 

“That's a start.”

 

Sansa grabbed her phone from where she'd been sitting, quickly tapping in the web address. The page was agonizingly slow to load, but she selected the contact tab and thrust it at her sister.

 

“'Sandor Clegane.' Mhmm. How do I know you didn't just find this and then fill in the blanks?”

 

“Gods, Arya! Why won't you believe me?”

 

“Because this whole thing just seems so unreal, Sans.” She started to hand her back the phone, but paused in the distance between them. “Wait, that name sounds really familiar.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah, I remember one time… Do you remember that guard that Tyrion had for a while? What was his name?”

 

“Who are you talking about?”

 

“He had a really unusual name… Gods, what was it?… Bronn! It was Bronn! Do you remember him?”

 

_Oh, gods. Oh gods, I've_ met _Bronn. His best friend._

 

“Yeah, I do. I think. Gods, that was a while ago, how do you even remember him? You must have only been, like, eight?”

 

“I don't know. He was pretty cool. He used to play-fight with me if Tyrion was busy.”

 

“Of course you would have liked that.”

 

“I did, of course. Mom didn't. Of course. But that's not the point. I remember him telling me a story about one of his friends. How he was fighting overseas and then got sent back over. Honorable discharge or something. But I remember his name: Sandor Clegane.”

 

“He was overseas?”

 

_Hello? You were overseas? How come you never told me you served?_

 

“I guess so. I don't remember all of the story- I was just a kid and you know how I don't pay attention sometimes. But I wonder if that's the same guy?”

 

“I don't see why it wouldn't be. His best friend's name is Bronn, so that would make sense. And he knows Tyrion.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah, he mentioned that he comes around every once in a while to hang out with Bronn.”

 

Arya reached out and grabbed her hands, her grey eyes boring into Sansa's blues. “Sans, I hate to sound like a broken record, but you know how crazy this sounds, right?”

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

“How weird of a coincidence that you just happened to- whatever it is you say you're doing- with someone that already knows people that we know?”

 

“Yeah, Arya, I do.”

 

“But you really do love him, huh?” Her little sister's face was a mix of pity and concern, and it made her stomach a little unsettled.

 

“Yeah, Arya. I do. I really do. He's been there for a lot of the stuff that's happened recently.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I dunno. I was talking to him when you guys came to pick me up to go to Big Sky, at Christmas dinner.”

 

“Is that why you seemed so distracted?”

 

“I did?”

 

“You totally did. I remember you looked a little spacey, and Gendry and I were wondering about you when you went into the kitchen to get his tea.”

 

“Oh, yeah, I suppose so. And New Years. He was there on New Years.”

 

“What? He was there?”

 

“Well, you know, in my head. He wasn't _there_. But yeah, I remember him- I remember feeling like I wasn't in control of my legs, kicking Joffrey.”

 

“Sans, that's some weird other-level shit, you know? I mean, it's one thing whatever this is, this _talking_ to him, having him in your head, but _controlling_ you?”

 

“It's only happened that once. I'm not even sure he knew he did it. I wasn't even really all that aware of it until I kept replaying it over and over in my head. But if he hadn't- if he hadn't… I'm not sure what would have happened.”

 

“Joffrey would have raped you, Sansa. That's what would have happened.” Arya pulled her sister down, wrapping her arms around her as Sansa buried her face in her hair, nodding her agreement, tears streaming down her face. It was one thing to think it, to know what happened, but the word- the realization, the… the… realness of saying it out loud. Of not just what would have happened, but of all this whole confession, the reality that even twelve hundred miles away, he had saved her.

 

“So what now?”

 

“I don't know, Sans. I don't think there's ever been a precedent for this? For having someone- someone real- in your head. I think you need to get him up here. I think we all need to meet this guy.”

 

She couldn't help the words as they came to her, the simplicity, “This is so weird.”

 

“I know, sis. Believe me, I still think you're kind of crazy. But, prove me wrong. I would love to be wrong. I would love for you to have someone that makes you happy. For you to have your own Gendry. Finally move on from that little shit.”

 

“Arya, I _have_ moved on.”

 

“I know, just… you know what I mean.”

 

“I don't think I do.”

 

“Have someone who's not a figment of your imagination?”

 

Gods, they were right back where they started. “Arya! He's _not_! You said it yourself! You had an anecdote! He's _real_!”

 

“Then get him up here, sis.”

 

* * *

 

They gathered up the rest of the wedding planning supplies and put them on the table at the top of the stairs, heading to their respective beds, Sansa to hers and Arya to the couch. Neither said much, still processing all that had just been discussed, Sansa's apparent lack of sanity; something that she herself was now doubting.

 

She was fully wrapped up in her comforter, that now so-familiar meeting place of theirs, before the tears came. For having said out loud the words she'd long thought: if not for him, she would have suffered a much worse fate at Joffrey's hands. For needing him so desperately to talk to her now more than ever, to prove to herself that she wasn't really crazy. Although she doubted if that would actually make her feel better or just confirm that she _was_ crazy; that Arya was right and she was hearing voices. For the pain that she'd bottled up from the past couple months, despite having meeting after meeting with therapists, despite empowering herself to never let herself be in that situation again. For the unshakable feeling that if she were with _him_ , it never would have happened in the first place. He would never hurt her. But then again, he was, in his own way, by pushing her away, by shutting himself off to her.

 

_You're an asshole, you know that?_ She felt like she was throwing paper airplanes at a wall, messages that would never be delivered; plummeting in their trajectory but never reaching their target. _You tell me you love me. I tell_ you _I love_ you _, and then you just leave. You said 'tomorrow.' You promised. And then what? You talk to me for a few days, lead me on and then just leave me here? I would_ never _leave you like that. You know that._ She could feel her anger swelling inside her, indignant that he would even do such a thing. After all they'd shared with each other. And yet now, apparently, there was more to his story that he hadn't told her. _What the hells, Sandor? I love you. And this is how you show me you love me? You're an asshole._

 

* * *

 

He was laying out on his deck, the warm fresh-spring breeze pulling at his hair as he hung his head over the side. He almost wished she was there with him, wished she could see the moonlight as it glittered off the ocean, millions of tiny diamonds on the water. Wished she could hear the call of the seagulls as they settled in for the night, off in the distance and carried by the wind up the hill his house was perched on. But she could. She could easily do those things if he would just let her, and he felt terrible for not letting her. But he couldn't. He refused to get into it any deeper with her. She'd told him she loved him. He'd repeated the words back, the air spilling out past his vocal chords like it was the most natural thing in the world. He'd relished in the peace those few simple words had brought him for a few days until the clarity of the situation had settled on him. How she had her whole life ahead of her, fresh from college, _youth_ , a family there to support her in everything she did. How he would only drag her down. How he somehow feared that _she_ could possibly hurt _him_ , still so unbelieving of her acceptance. Of her love.

 

_You're an asshole, you know that?…_

 

He listened to her tyrade, her tears, felt her anger. Knew that he should say something back to her, to end her pain. But he just lay there, staring at the upside-down ocean as it sparkled in the distance, hoping that soon enough she would be over him. His body wanted nothing more that to wrap its arms around her, but his head screamed that he was doing the right thing. Or at least he thought. Hoped. He ran his hands over his face, that now-familiar gesture, trying the clear his head of her. He tried to ignore the tears that welled up in his eyes, continuing on for hers when she finally fell asleep. It was late in the night when he finally managed to collect himself enough to crawl into his own bed, exhausted from fighting himself over his decision, from letting himself lose her.

 

He'd be damned if he let them drag him to Montana to set up that damned gym. He wouldn't risk seeing her; it would hurt too much.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two for the price of one today! You lucky ducks (well, hopefully you're lucky. ;) )
> 
> [Missoula side](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/17/9d/2d/179d2d49f379247f108ebac1c7f40b4e.jpg)   
>  [California side!](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/3a/90/c1/3a90c17136b8a04d3c10872f66b4d741.jpg)
> 
> Also, this is going to be a little Arya-centric for a moment, but I promise I'll be over it shortly. I'm just using her as a tool right now. :) Also, for some reason, I feel like I need to apologize for the amount of alcohol in this story. I just can't think of anything else that I could see Sandor drinking besides water, and it just doesn't have the same appeal to me as a beer bottle. But I promise they're evenly spread out, and he only has one. ;)

Arya sat across from Sansa at the long farm table inside Le Petit Outre, silently sipping on her coffee and watching as her sister picked at her almond croissant. The circles under eyes were puffy from shed tears, lack of consistent sleep. They hadn't said a word to each other besides to make breakfast plans- certainly not anything about what had been said last night. Sansa's eyes were blank and bloodshot, a far cry from how she'd seen them just last night when she'd talked about Sandor. Before she'd  _really_ talked about him. How he'd stopped talking to her the past couple weeks.

 

She fiddled with the ends of her scarf, thinking about the idea that had popped into her head that morning, hemming and hawing the possibility. If it was crazy, like she still thought her sister might be, or if it would come off a little stalker-ish. But the more she watched her sister across the table, morose and retreating into herself, the more she convinced herself.

 

She pretended to be alerted to some rumble from the cell phone in her jacket pocket, to read a text that supposedly had scrolled up on its screen. 

 

“Hey, Sans, you mind if we head back to the house?” Her auburn head snapped up out of its slump. 

 

“No, that's ok. We can head back. What's up?”

 

“Oh, Gendry texted me. Looks like I need to get back a little sooner than I thought. You gonna be okay by yourself for a few weeks til I can get back?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm sure I'll be fine,” she said, still kind of half out of it as she slung her purse over her shoulder and tucked the croissant back into its little paper bag. “I've got school to keep me busy.”

 

They headed back to Sansa's house, and Arya grabbed her things before giving her sister a hug at the door. 

 

“You sure you're gonna be okay? You know I'm always just a phone call away, sis.”

 

“I know. I just- I really thought I'd found him, you know? Thought I'd found _him._ The white buffalo, you know?”

 

“Oh, Sans. It'll be okay, I promise.” She wasn't so sure about promises any more. Arya squeezed her shoulders and called out one more time to ring her if she needed before hopping into her car. Sansa watched as the car turned the corner down the hill, leaving her more alone than she'd felt in a long time.

 

 

* * *

Arya stood in the security line at the airport, lucky to catch the last flight out for the day. She dug into her pocket to retrieve her phone and send Gendry a quick text.

 

Hey babe- I gotta fly out to Cali for a few weeks. Urgent.

 

What's up?

 

Oh, nothing. I've just got some business I've got to attend to. I'll be back soon enough.

 

You need me to come?

 

No. Maybe when I get back. ;)

 

lol

 

No, but srsly. I'll be back in a little. Tell mom not to worry, k?

 

Will do. Let me know if you need anything.

 

Of course, babe. Love you. :*

 

Love you, too :*

 

 

* * *

 

The flight into Santa Barbara only took a few hours with some connections, and soon she was standing in front of the grey brick building she'd gotten the address for off of his website.  _Tri County Crossfit_ in big yellow letters contrasted against the dark paint on the building, and she clicked on her phone to double check she was in the right place. Yep. Sure was. Her heart thrummed as she reached for the handle on the glass door, rehearsing the lines in her head she'd come up with on the flight over.

 

Inside, the gym was a chaos of activity and sweat and music, about ten people scattered across the room doing various exercises while the tallest man she'd ever seen walked around them and supervised. He stopped to correct one of the exercisers, making his way over to her after hearing the door open.

 

“Can I help you?” His voice was coarse, gravelly probably from yelling instructions to his pupils. And his face- oh, gods, what happened? Seriously, Sansa fell for this guy?

 

“Hey, yeah, I just came to check out your gym. I've been thinking about getting into crossfit, figured I should probably come in to check it out before I commit, you know?”

 

He squinted down at her, evaluating.  “ Have we met before? You look really familiar.”

 

“Oh, I've just got one of those faces, I think. I get that a lot,” she lied.

 

“Mhmm. Okay, well, let me give you a tour, then, and you can tell me what your fitness goals are.” He turned, motioning for her to follow. They made their way around the gym, him pointing out the various pieces of equipment, and her lying her way through wanting to get into the sport. Though, admittedly, it seemed like her kind of thing. They finished the tour outside of his office, Sandor gesturing for her to enter and sit in one of the empty chairs in front of his desk. “So, what do you think?”

 

“I'd like to give it a try. Do a few classes. See if I like it.”

 

“Okay, well, we've got a class going on tomorrow afternoon if you're interested. There's always room for more.” She could tell he was trying to be genial, but she could see that his heart wasn't in it, and judging by the similar wariness she'd seen in Sansa's eyes this morning, she figured he'd spent most of his night the same way. Idiots.

 

“Great, yeah, let's give that a try.” He half-smiled and slid a sheet of paper with the class schedules over to her. 

 

“Whichever one fits into your schedule, you're welcome to come to.” He pushed his chair back and stood up in one fluid motion, extending his hand out to her. “If you'll excuse me, I've got to get back out there and supervise.”

 

“Oh, of course. I'll see you tomorrow.” She shook his hand- nice strong shake- and made her way back out to her rental car in the parking lot. That went well. Now to figure out how to slyly work Sansa into the conversation.

 

 

* * *

 

“Gods, Bronn, would you quit it?”

 

Both men sat on Sandor's deck, legs hanging off the side, a beer in each of their hands. “I just don't understand your unrelenting resistance to help him, is all.”

 

“Maybe because he's always been a spoiled little cunt?”

 

“Yeah, but so are half the people out there, to you.”

 

“Am I that far off?”

 

“Most of the time, no. But Tyrion's a good guy.”

 

“He's a _Lannister_. I highly doubt that.”

 

“Sandor. I was his bodyguard for, what? Five years? I would think I would know better than you if he was good guy or not, so shut your trap and listen. He could really use your help, you could really use the exposure for the gym, everyone could use an all-expenses paid vacation courtesy of 'that spoiled little cunt.' So suck it up and help, would ya?”

 

“I said 'no,' and I meant 'no.' Now would you two drop it?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket as it rumbled, a text from Tyrion scrolling across the top: _Don't make me have to beg!_ “Gods, I can't escape!”

 

“We're not gonna just drop it. And honestly, the state you've been in recently, I think you could use a vacation, too, my man.”

 

“I just- let's just talk about something else. You coming to the class tomorrow?”

 

“Nah, Lols is having ladies night with her friends and I gotta watch the kid.”

 

“Sounds like a good time.”

 

“You want to come over? He loves you- you should. Course, you'll be stuck playing airplane all night.”

 

“Yeah, sure. It's been a while. And I don't mind. Could always use the workout.”

 

“I don't now how you do that. Workout all day for a living and then come home and still want to do it? You're a crazy person.”

 

“I mostly don't workout _all_ day. Just here and there at the classes.”

 

“Mhmm. Well, I work out here and there- a month- and I'm exhausted every time I get done.”

 

“You've really let yourself go, man. Besides, that's just cause you don't do it everyday.”

 

“Okay, now _I_ want to change the subject. Enough about this exercise shit.”

 

“Suggestions?”

 

“Met any girls lately?”

 

“You know the answer to that question.”

 

“Yeah, well, thought I'd give it a shot.”

 

“There's a new girl maybe joining the gym.”

 

“There you go!”

 

“Nah, ring on her finger. Though she did maintain eye contact, which is new.”

 

“Well, there's a plus! Maybe she's got sisters?”

 

“Nah, not my type.”

 

“I didn't know you had a type.”

 

“Redheads.”

 

“That's awfully specific. And those are rare, my friend. Narrowing down your pool of potentials quite a bit, aren't you?”

 

“What's that supposed to mean?”

 

“You know what I meant. The ladies are few and far between for you, buddy.” Sandor glared over at him. “I don't mean that… meanly… just, bitches be superficial around here.”

 

“Yeah, well.”

 

“So maybe you should go on vacation and widen the pool?”

 

“Oh, my gods, Bronn! I'm not going to fucking Montana!”

 

“You never know, is all I'm saying.”

 

“I know. And _no_ , for _fuck's_ _sake_.”

 

* * *

 

Arya stretched on the mats at the corner of the room, watching as the rest of the guys readied themselves for their workout. Sandor was writing the reps on the whiteboard on the wall, answering questions as they were called to him. He didn't seem too bad. Older, though. Much older than Sansa… And she still couldn't see what Sansa saw in him. But at least he was a real human being. And that meant that her sister wasn't crazy. So far.

 

He walked over to her, the guys behind him now set on their workout. “You ready?”

 

“As I'll ever be,” she said as she stood up from the mat, still a little unsure about what she'd gotten herself into.

 

As he guided her through the movements of the workout, she was only half-listening to his instructions. The other half of her wove together some lie to tell him to get him out of the gym so she could pick his brain. When they were finally done, she was a ball of goo on the floor, muscles quivering from the intensity of her exertions. _No! I can't forget!_ Her chest was heaving, deep breaths trying to regain her speech. She'd just managed when Sandor came over and offered her his hand to pull her up off the mat.

 

“So what'd you think?”

 

“I think that whooped my ass.” She rested her hands against her knees, still a little shaky on her legs.

 

“That's good, though. That's what's supposed to happen.” _Sansa better thank me for this later._

 

“Hey, I know this might sound weird, but are you free tonight?”

 

“What?” The look on his face was almost heartbreaking, just the faintest flash of hope, then stony as she saw the wall rise up over that brief vulnerability.

 

“Well, I mean, I'm new to the area, and you're kind of the first person I've met here. Think you might be able to show me around?” He just stared back at her, uncertain. “I'm not asking you out or anything,” she held up her hand with the ring on it. “I just don't know the area.”

 

“Uh... yeah, I guess I could?”

 

“Great!” She turned to collect her things from the mat, surprised at how easily that went.

 

“Aw, shit. I forgot- I've gotta stop by my friends' for a while tonight.”

 

“Oh, that's ok. Would you mind if I tag along? I know that's awfully presumptuous of me and all, but… you know, the more the merrier! Right?” _Oh, my gods. This is so awkward._

 

He looked taken aback for a minute, then realized that he'd have to show her around sooner or later; he'd agreed. “Yeah, I- uh… I guess that'll be okay. I'll just let him know there'll be one more.” He cast her a sideways glance as he turned away from her, heading to the back office.

 

“When were you going to go over?” she called after him.

 

“I was gonna go straight after here.”

 

“Can I hitch a ride with you?” _You better appreciate this, woman._

 

He was beginning to look at her like a crazy person. _He's probably wondering what he's gotten himself into…_ “Yeah… I guess.”

 

“Great,” she sighed, praising the gods that this was somehow working.

 

* * *

 

It was a quiet ride over to his friends' house, just awkward small talk and the radio, every once in a while Sandor pointing out the sights or good places to eat. They finally pulled into the driveway, more silence falling over them as the radio shut off along with the rumble of his old truck. Pretty soon, though, it was broken by squealing kid's laughter, followed shortly after my a little blonde-haired boy running up to the truck.

 

“Uncle Sandor! Uncle Sandor!” _Uncle?_ Sandor peered over the door so he didn't hit the bouncing little kid when he swung it open. He was greeted with little arms reaching up for him, clenching and unclenching hands motioning to be picked up.

 

“H-hey, squirt. How's it hangin'?”

 

“Pick me up, pick me up! Airplane!”

 

“What's the magic word?” He crouched down to be at the same height as the little boy in front of him.

 

“Pwease?”

 

“There you go, my man.” He resumed his reaching, almost trying to climb on top of Sandor in the process. “Hey, knuckles, then airplane.” The little boy stepped back a minute, fisting his hand and waiting for Sandor, who met it with his own, then scooped him up. Arya leaned against the truck as he lifted the boy above his head, running around the front yard and holding him out like a, well- like an airplane. _So he's good with kids._

 

Her attention was diverted to the man walking out along the path from the front door. He gave a laugh in the direction of the aerial maneuvers, and then his eyes fell on her.

 

“Well, well, who do we have here?” He sauntered over to her as Sandor called from the lawn.

 

“That's Arry, the new girl from the gym I told you about.”

 

“Bronn, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He extended his hand for a shake.

 

“Arry, likewise. Thanks for letting me just drop by- I'm new in town, so Sandor was gonna show me around.”

 

“Oh, really?” He cast a look over his shoulder to his friend. “You know, you look so familiar, but I just can't place you.”

 

“Oh, I just have one of those faces. I get that a lot.”

 

“Nah, I'm sure I've seen you around somewhere. I'll figure it out eventually!” He waved the thought aside and motioned for them all to head inside. Bronn's son went scurrying off as soon as they crossed the threshold, little kid sound effects echoing off the halls as he play-fought with himself. “Can I offer you a beer or anything, Arry?”

 

“Oh, no thank you. Maybe just some water?”

 

“Sure thing,” he disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve it for her, giving her another appraising look before rounding the corner.

 

She turned to Sandor, brushing the dirty shoe prints off his shoulders. “So how did you two meet?”

 

“Oh, spent some time in the service when we were younger. Turned out we were from the same county but'd never met before being shipped out. Small world, eh?”

 

_You can say that again._ “What branch were you?”

 

“Just Army infantry.”

 

“Where'd you serve?”

 

“Afghanistan.”

 

“Oh, interesting. How long did you serve?”

 

Bronn entered back into the room, presenting a glass of water to both of them. “Two tours, but he'll never admit it. Honorably discharged that one. Shielded some of his unit from a blast.” She turned back to Sandor, a surprised look on her face. “He's a real war hero, but you'll never hear it from him.” 

 

Sandor just rolled his eyes. “It's not a big deal.”

 

“Of course it is. You know how many lives you saved, dude?”

 

“You would have done the same, Bronn.”

 

“Oh, I'm not so sure about that. Anyway, enough about this grump. Tell me about you, Arry. What brought you to our little town?”

 

“Oh, you know. Business,” she tried to sound nonchalant about it to avoid any other questions. She wasn't sure how elaborate of a lie she'd be able to keep up.

 

“What do you do?”

 

“I, uh… my fiance's a farrier. So… looking for new clients, you know. That sort of stuff.” She watched as Sandor edged over to the slider on the other side of the room. 

 

Bronn must have noticed her attentions, “Don't worry about him. He's just pissed at me for trying to get him out of his shell.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Our buddy has a resort he's opening up pretty soon and he wants Sandor here to come help set up its gym.”

 

“That's great!”

 

“Yeah, but he won't go.”

 

“Oh. How come?” She was half asking Sandor, half Bronn. But the man at the window was unflinching aside from squaring his shoulders as the subject was brought up.

 

“He blames it on the gym. Not being able to get away. But our friend offered to fly everyone up so he could close it for a week.”

 

“That's nice of him.”

 

“Yeah, I keep trying to tell him he's a nice guy, but no dice.”

 

“I told you, Bronn. Just drop it.”

 

“And I told you, you could use a vacation! The mountain air would do you some good!”

 

“Mountains? Where's the resort?” 

 

“Fucking Montana.” He still hadn't turned around, his shoulders still tense as they carried on the conversation.

 

“Montana's great this time of year! You should really go!”

 

“Oh, gods, don't you side with him, too.”

 

“Well, what's holding you back?” she inquired. Maybe her problem could be solved easier than she'd thought.  


 

“Not wanting to. Is that not enough of a reason?”

 

“Which resort is it? I may know it.”

 

“Have you been up there?” Bronn looked at her hopefully, and she quickly remembered that she needed to stay in character if this ruse were to work.

 

“A few times. Here and there.” He nodded back at her skeptically.

 

“It's a place called Paws Up.”

 

“And it's owned by Tyrion Lannister, which is reason number one why I'm not going.”

 

“I still don't understand what you have against Tyrion, Sandor.”

 

“Bronn, I don't want to get into this right now.” He finally turned from the window, indicating towards Arya as the reason why he didn't.

 

“Tyrion's a good one though, of the Lannisters,” she blurted before she could help it. “I mean, from what I've read. Very into philanthropy and all that.”

 

“Yeah, well, I'm not a charity case.”

 

“Oh, no, Sandor, that's not what I meant.” She put her hands out in front of her, defensive and pleading at the same time.

 

“Nobody thinks you're a charity case, Sandor. Get over youself. He just wants the best person to set up that gym and that's you.”

 

Bronn's son zoomed past Sandor and he caught him, swinging him up onto his shoulder in one fell swoop. He was met with a burst of giggles and squirming. Of course, tickling ensued. Arya watched as Bronn joined in, the tickle monsters unrelenting in their torture. Maybe it wasn't so bad if this was the guy Sansa had in her head. Grumpy, yes, but knowing  _why_ he probably hated the Lannisters, if it was true he was there with Sansa when it happened… she could see why he wouldn't be so inclined to go up. But still, there remained the problem of her sister in a crumpled mess in her bed because of this guy, and that needed to be fixed. 

 

“You're awfully good with kids,” she told him as they settled down on the couch.

 

“Ah- just this guy. Known him since he was born.” _Oh._ The little boy squirmed under containment and was soon free of his confines.

 

“Well, still.”

 

Bronn cleared his throat from the corner. “There's a lot of things he won't admit about himself, this one, and that's one of them, Arry. Humble to a fault.”

 

They spent the next couple hours sprawled out on Bronn's massive sectional, his kid whizzing around them, a seemingly bottomless pit of energy. Finally, Lolly, apparently Bronn's wife, came back home and Sandor and Arya said their goodbyes. Sandor headed out first to warm up the truck, and Arya was just about to turn the corner from the path to the driveway when Bronn called after her. 

 

“Hey! I finally remembered why you look familiar.” _Shit_. He was talking loudly over the engine of the truck, and Sandor looked up just as the words left his mouth. “You're Arya Stark!” Her eyes met Sandor's in the instant after the words had been spoken, one of his legs still on the pavement of the drive way, a hand on the door as he made to get into the truck, the slack in his jaw as he heard this revelation. _Shit._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Picset :)](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/04/21/d1/0421d1a05bbf93f6e41054057ef5b231.jpg)  
> [Picset!](http://its-meggowaffle.tumblr.com/post/130612982140) (And I've never used Tumblr before, so I'm super happy about those gifs working... it's the little things, you know?)

Arya watched Sandor's face as she heard her own nervous laughter bubble up unexpectedly from her throat. She watched as it flickered from confusion to just the briefest moment of shame, though the sadness remained in his eyes as it settled on the realization of where he's recognized her from. Her thoughts skittered between admission, denial, what she would say if she admitted to it. What she'd say to Sandor later about her sister… how she'd bring it up now that her cover was blown.

 

She finally settled and turned around to Bronn. “Do I know you?”

 

“Yeah, remember? I used to do private security for Tyrion a while back. If I remember correctly, you've got a pretty mean right hook on ya, kid.”

 

“Oh! Yeah, yeah. Bronn! Of course,” she feigned. “Yeah, used to play-fight all the time.”

 

He stood with his hands on his hips, nodding at the memory.

 

“Ah, well. We should probably get going, huh?” She turned back to Sandor, hoping that he'd nod or something to save her from the awkward conversation, but his eyes were set somewhere in the air in front of him, hands clenched on the steering wheel. “Good to see you again, Bronn. Wow! What a coincidence, huh?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, come on by anytime. Can catch up on the good ol' days. Say hi to your family for me, will ya?”

 

She made her way over to his truck, wrenching open the door and sliding up into the passenger side. “Will do! See ya.”

 

 

* * *

 

It was a quiet ride back over to the gym, just the radio waves filling the air in the cab, streetlights casting their yellow glow across the dashboard with each pass. They were halfway back before he even said anything.

 

“Stark, huh?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“You never said you were a Stark.”

 

“Didn't think that was relevant.”

 

“Your paperwork for the gym said Waters.”

 

“Oh, that's my fiance's last name. Just getting used to it, I suppose. Don't want to have to go back and change my name on everything, you know?”

 

He grunted in reply, and she cast a glance over at him, trying to judge his reaction. His eyes were still on the road in front of him, unmoved from before.

 

“Hey, know any good bars around here? I'd love to find somewhere to play pool.” That finally got him to look over at her, equally judging her motives as much as she was gauging his movements.

 

“Yeah, there's one by the gym. Just at the other end of the block.”

 

“Feel like playing a game?”

 

“What?”

 

“Pool. Playing a game of pool? I'd need a partner.”

 

“What happened to your fiance?”

 

She waved a hand at him dismissively. “He's out of town tonight. Getting those clients started, remember? So how about it?”

 

He hesitated for longer than she would have liked, making her wonder if she'd just blown this whole thing. If she was trying too hard. “Yeah, sure. I could go for a beer or two right now. And some pool wouldn't hurt.”

 

 

* * *

 

They were walking into the bar not long after, classic rock tunes blaring from the jukebox and a few patrons hunched over the bar at the back. They looked up when they walked in, eyes lingering a while on Arya, immediately turning away from Sandor. She felt a little bad for him, but he seemed unfazed and ordered them two beers from the bartender.

 

“Got any quarters?” he asked as he handed her a beer.

 

She dug through her wallet and luckily found some, handing them over. She watched as he vended a game for them, arranging the balls in the triangle and waiting for her to start the game. He leaned back against the wall, one elbow on the ledge next him, his beer hanging from his lax hand. She couldn't tell if he was purposefully trying to look nonchalant even though he knew about the Stark thing now, or if he really was unaffected by it. She hit the cue and sent the others scattering, moving aside as he stepped up to make his move.

 

“So what made you decide on the gym?”

 

“Just some other career choices didn't pan out, and it kind of fell into my lap. Decided it was time for a change.” He handed a striped ball in the corner pocket, resuming his spot on the wall as she moved over to the table.

 

“Oh. You from here?” Her shot moved a solid green ball just barely on the edge of a center pocket, and they rotated again.

 

“Down south, originally. You? Aren't you guys from up North?”

 

“Yeah, Montana. Just down here for a few weeks or so.”

 

“I thought you said you guys had just moved here?”

 

“Oh, yeah, well… we're not sure, yet. See how it goes.”

 

He grunted in reply, lining up his next shot. Clearly it was going to take some coaxing to get this guy to talk. She tipped her beer bottle back, draining it. _This is gonna be a long night_ …

 

 

* * *

 

She was surprised at the end of the night that she'd managed to finally get some information out of him, that she'd managed not to give away what little element of secrecy she had left. But by the time they'd both gone their separate ways, she felt like perhaps he wouldn't be such a bad match for Sansa. Maybe tomorrow she could work her into the conversation… well, if she could breathe after another workout…

 

 

* * *

 

Sansa was curled up on her couch, watching but not really seeing the images moving on the TV screen in front of her. She kind of resented feeling so out of sorts about Sandor. After all, it's not like she'd _met_ him. Like they'd even been in a relationship or anything. But she couldn't help the odd mixture of sadness and hurt and anger she felt whenever she thought about him. She was finding that moving on was quite a bit more difficult this time around. _Maybe it's because he's not an asshole._ Then she remembered what she'd tried to say to him the other night. That she'd called him just that. _But he's not, really._

 

_Yes I am._

 

She sat up, suddenly alert. _Oh, look who finally decided to show._

 

She felt the deep breath he took, the remorse the flooded him. _I'm sorry, Sansa._

 

_Seriously, Sandor, what the hell?_

 

_I know, I've been an asshole. I heard you the other night._

 

_You think you can just up and leave?_

 

_Look, I'm sorry. I know it hurts. I just don't think that we should really… what I'm trying to say is… there are plenty of other fish in the sea, Sansa._

 

_Are you seriously telling me to move on from you? Who_ does _that?_

 

_Hey, I didn't want to get into this right now. I just- what is this? Called? I just called?- eh, whatever. Did you know that your sister's here?_

 

_WHAT?!_

 

_Yeah. Showed up yesterday._

 

_What's she doing down there?_

 

_I'm getting the distinct impression that she's scoping me._

 

_Oh, my gods, Arya._

 

_Where would she, you know, get the idea to do that?_

 

_I may have told her about us the other night?_

 

_How'd that go?_

 

_Uh, kinda weird, I must admit._

 

_I can imagine. What did you tell her?_

 

_That I can hear you in my head. She said your name sounded familiar when I showed her the gym's website._

 

_So that's how she found me._

 

_Yeah, probably. Sorry about that._

 

_No, it's okay. Seems pretty harmless for now. Nosy, though._

 

_What'd she say?_

 

_She tagged along to Bronn's house with me. Kind of invited herself._

 

_That sounds like Arya._

 

_Asked me a bunch of questions._

 

_She's grilling you._

 

_I figured that._

 

_Oh, gods, I'm sorry._

 

_Don't be._

 

_Hey Sandor?_

 

_Yeah?_

 

_I've missed this._

 

_You've missed talking about your sister?_

 

_You know what I mean._ She could feel his hand on his neck, rubbing out the tension or maybe the words he no longer wanted to repeat.

 

_Yeah, little bird, I know what you mean._

 

_Why'd you go away?_

 

_Because I don't want to hurt you._

 

_You can't, Sandor. Not more than you did when you left._

 

_Sansa, you have your whole life ahead of you, and we live in different states._

 

_So?_

 

_So it already doesn't work._

 

_You're not trying very hard. There's gotta be some other reason._ She tried to dig around in his head, find some reason for herself if he wouldn't tell her. _Sandor, have you ever even been in a relationship before? You know these things are going to succeed, both people have to try as hard as the other to make it work._

 

_No, Sansa, I haven't. And the truth is, I_ don't _know how these things work, but I just know I don't want you to get hurt._

 

_What are you so afraid of?_

 

_I don't really want to get into it._

 

_Sandor. You have to be more willing to tell me things. I try for_ you _._

 

_I don't have any experience with this shit, Sansa. My mom died when I was kid, my dad was an asshole that tried to cover up the monster that my brother was. I don't have any foundation for this. I don't know what the hells I'm doing, okay? Is that what you want to hear?_

 

_Well, we can work on that._

 

_You don't understand. You've had your family there your whole life. You're gorgeous and perfect and smart, and I'm just some guy that had a shit family, who's fucking_ brother _burned his own kid brother's fucking_ face _, who evidently is only good for his brawn._

 

There was a stretching silence between them for a few minutes, Sansa horrified on her couch at the truth he'd just shared with her, over this sudden confession of everything, really, and Sandor slouched back against the railing of his deck, eyes wide with the realization that those words were just made public.

 

_Sandor, I'm so, so sorry._

 

_It's not your fault, little bird._ Gods, how she's missed him calling her that.

 

_He really did that?_

 

_Yeah._

 

_Gods, Sandor._

 

_You think you're alone? Out there by yourself with no one in the house? Well…_

 

_You're not alone, Sandor. You have me._

 

_I can't stand to lose you, Sansa._

 

_Then stop pushing me away._

 

_But I don't want you to get hurt._

 

_Would you quit it? You're not going to hurt me. I won't let you._

 

_I already did._

 

_Then don't leave again. Sandor, the only thing you could do to hurt me is leave. So just don't do it. Okay?_

 

She felt him nodding, his head resting against the railing as it stilled.

 

_I love you._

 

_I love you too, little bird. Hey, do you have your sister's number?_

 

_What kind of question is that? Of course I do._

 

_Can I get it from you?_

 

_Yeah, why?_

 

_You'll see._

 

* * *

 

Later that night, he'd sent a text to Tyrion and Arya, requesting that they meet at Freebirds the following morning, and as he sat in front of the white stucco building waiting for them to show, he wondered, still, if he was making the right decision. Arya walked up first, plunking down in the seat next to him.

 

“What's this about?”

 

“Talked to your sister last night.” The look of shock on her face made him laugh, a low rumble of air in his lungs. “Didn't see that one coming, did you?”

 

“Can't say that I did.”

 

“Well, at least now you know she's not crazy.”

 

“Yeah. I guess I do… Where are you going with this?”

 

“I need your help with something.”

 

Tyrion showed up not long after they'd discussed their plans, overjoyed that Sandor had finally come around.

 

* * *

 

The next few weeks were spent in a cloud of nervous anticipation, though he realized every night when he talked to her that he'd wasted their time trying to push her away. How he'd ever been so crazy to almost let her slip away was beyond him, and the urge to wrap his arms around her grew more intense as the days dragged by.

 

Finally, he sat sardined into one of the tiny airplane seats, legs bunched up almost under his chin, it felt like, stomach in knots and palms sweaty. The guy sitting next to him kept throwing him weird looks, probably a mix of horror from the scars on his face (it was always that), and his odd behavior. It felt like eons once they landed for the plane to taxi in to the gate, and he all but leapt off the plane as soon as they opened the door.

 

Arya greeted him on the other side of the glass revolving door in the arrivals lobby, a smile on her face.

 

“Hey, stranger.”

 

“Hey.”

 

“Have a good flight?”

 

“As good as it could be, I suppose.”

 

“Well, I'd love to stay here and chat, but we've got work to do. She's out of class in an hour, and we've still got to get stuff and find parking.”

 

“Right, well. Lead the way.”

 

“You sure you're ready for this?”

 

“Now or never, little wolf.”

 

* * *

 

The last half hour of class dragged, those minutes that seemed to speed by when she was talking to him now suddenly slowed to a crawl in anticipation of heading up to the resort for spring break. Her phone lit up in its spot next to her notebook on the desk, and she read the message as it scrolled across the screen.

 

Meet me at the west exit, okay?

 

Finally, they were dismissed and Sansa climbed the two flights of stairs out of the basement lecture hall, meeting Arya outside the doors.

 

“Hey, sis! Ready to head up?”

 

“Yeah, I've just gotta grab my stuff at the house before we head out. Have you talked to Tyrion? Do you know when you're supposed to be there?” Arya started walking back toward the parking lot, Sansa following after her.

 

“I think we're just supposed to be up there at dinner time. I guess he asked mom and dad there, too, for the first inaugural dinner or something.”

 

“Oh, okay. Are we supposed to bring anything?” Sansa followed behind her sister, past the brick buildings and cedar trees and throngs of kids trying to leave, too.

 

“No, I think just us.”

 

They rounded the corner of the long medical building next to the parking lot, the afternoon sun hitting them as they left its shade. They weaved through the aisles of cars, almost to the very back row against the street.

 

“Want me to hold your books for you or anything?” Arya asked, looking over at her sister. They were getting closer to her car, and-

 

“Uh? No, I got them. Thanks.” Arya reached for them, stealing them out of her hands just as they turned to head up the next aisle of cars and Sansa looked up.

 

There, leaning against the back of Arya's car, was the tallest man she'd ever seen, long black hair tied back. Grey eyes watching her and arms and smile spreading as Sansa took in the form in front of her.

 

“ _OHMYGODS!”_ She took off at a sprint across the last few yards of cars, leaving Arya in the dust. He caught her as the jumped up at him, flinging her arms around his neck and spinning in an arc as he absorbed her momentum. “Oh, my gods, you're _here._ ” She didn't even care who was around them, as time slowed and she craned her head back from its nest in his neck, taking in his face, his eyes, his lips as they neared hers. “You came,” she breathed.

 

He didn't say anything, just lowered his lips to hers, and she thought that she might just be able to die happy in that instant, as the butterflies in her stomach settled and calm swept over her. _I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I think that's the slowest burn I've ever done. Woot woot! Finally!
> 
> Also, hubs is gonna be gone for a few days camping, so hopefully I'll be able to get a little more done before he comes back. :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one to get the creative juices flowing again. Turned out that last week was quite a bit more hectic than I thought it would be, so I didn't get a chance to write!
> 
> [Chapter 13 Inspo](http://its-meggowaffle.tumblr.com/post/131112761290/chapter-13-of-in-each-others-eyes)

He watched as the little wolf and his little bird wormed their way through the parking lot, Arya glancing up at him every once in a while, making sure he was still there and giving him a reassuring look unbeknownst to her sister beside her. They rounded the last row of cars, Arya preemptively grabbing her books from her. He watched as those clear blue eyes raised from the asphalt beneath her to his leaning form against the back of Arya's car, as realization dawned across her delicate features, as she sprinted ever nearer to him, as she jumped up in his arms. Solid, warm, _real_. He felt her nuzzle into his neck, returning the gesture and burying his face into that flaming hair, harmless flames. He couldn't think of anything that had ever smelled so sweet, be it from whatever perfume graced the air around her, or from a mix of this moment making everything better than reality, he wasn't sure.

 

She pulled back from his neck, studying his face for the briefest of moments before the overwhelming urge to kiss those smiling pink lips rushed over him. _I love you_. They thought it at the same moment, and time slowed to a halt as they stood there in the parking lot, arms around each other, Arya awkwardly looking _anywhere_ else, swarms of students leaving campus rushing past them. And for once in his life, he didn't care what anyone else thought. In that moment, there was only her.

 

* * *

 

Now they were in her bedroom, Sansa mulling over what outfit to change into for the dinner and Sandor freshening up again before the inevitable meeting-of-the-parents. She watched him as he buttoned up the crisp blue of the chambray shirt he'd plucked from his suitcase, as he pulled his hair back into a neater mess than it had been before. He met her eyes in the mirror and smirked, noticing the blush that crept up her cheeks when she realized she'd been caught. He went about his business, rolling up the sleeves over his muscled forearms, and he watched her in the reflection, eyes wandering as his hands moved. He'd seen that look once or twice before, rare occasions. But she shook her head as if remembering something important and turned back to the closet, absently pushing the hangers aside as if looking for something in particular.

 

She didn't notice or didn't let on that she did when he strode across the room and wrapped his arms around her middle, nosing her hair out of the way and kissing her neck. He ate up the hiss the escaped from her lips, the melt and sway as she cocked her head to the side and allowed him more access. She turned in his arms, the task of closet-searching all but forgotten, raising her hands over his shoulders and across the nape of his neck, fingers trailing down the line of his jaw, the stubble on his throat, toying with the top button of his freshly-donned shirt.

 

The pounding on the door jamb pulled them out of their trance, the scowling face of Arya poking into the room. “Hey, you two. Keep it in your pants. We've gotta get on the road if we're gonna make it to dinner on time. Sans, you haven't even changed. We gotta go- come on!” And with that she turned on her heel, footsteps disappearing into the kitchen and keys jingling as a hint.

 

Sansa cleared her throat, her palm open on the hard plane of his chest. “Right, yes. Better get going.”

 

Her hands fumbled with the hangers again, arbitrarily picking out a white dress from the back. He took the hint and turned around, watching as her clothes piled up on the floor next to him. “Can you help me zip up the rest of this?”

 

His hands were clumsy as they tugged the tiny zipper pull up its track, one hand on her waist and both eyes on the curve of her spine as it disappeared into the closing dress. He kissed her once more on the nape of her neck before she turned back around, grabbing his hand and making for the door. Their bags and Arya were already in the car when they got there, Gendry walking up the drive as Sansa turned the key in the front door. They said their hellos, introductions, Gendry waving off the oddity that was this seemingly sudden addition to Sansa's life, and piled into the waiting car. Sansa immediately slid as close to Sandor as she could in the confines of her seatbelt, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder when she snuggled her face into his chest. Arya rolled her eyes at them through the rear-view mirror, but he could care less at this point. The warm skin under his fingertips, the sweet-fresh lemon that was Sansa was happily nestled into his side, and he couldn't give a damn what anyone else thought.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter 14 Inspo :)](http://its-meggowaffle.tumblr.com/post/131140963785/chapter-14-inspo-for-in-each-others-eyes-yes-i)
> 
> Two in one day?
> 
> Hopefully I can keep on it... we shall see....

* * *

The sun was just setting as they pulled through the large metal gates and underneath the wooden arch at the entrance of Paws Up. It was still a bit of a drive over the gravel driveway back to the main building, massive chandeliers hanging from the beams of the long patio off the side of the log-cabin structure. They pulled in beside the Land Rovers and Gelandewagens and limousines, Sansa's Subaru looking as out of place as Sandor felt. People were mulling around the table underneath the chandeliers on the patio, music playing softly in the background. _No turning back, now._

 

He hopped out and held Sansa's door open for her, offering her a hand as she stepped out. They looked over at Arya and Gendry smoothing out the wrinkles in their clothes from the ride over. “So, what's the plan here?”

 

“Well, Tyrion hired you to help with setting up the gym at the resort, that much is true. But I've already told mom and dad that you two were introduced through Bronn and Tyrion. They're both in on it, too.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but he hated lies and it showed on his face.

 

“Look, what else do you expect to tell them? The truth?”

 

“I don't know, I guess I just kind of hoped it wouldn't come up.”

 

“Well, it will. But even if it didn't, it's always good to have a backstory set up in case.” She turned and looped her arm through Gendry's, motioning for them to follow suit. “Come on, they're waiting for us. Any later and we'd be out of the 'fashionably' zone.”

 

_You ready for this?_

 

_I think… yeah. Yeah, it'll be okay._ She patted his arm as she snaked hers th rough it.  _You?_

 

_No._

 

_They won't bite._

 

_Right, walking into a room with a bunch of lions and wolves, and none of them will bite._

 

* * *

 

Everyone was bright smiles and welcome and warmth as Arya and Gendry walked in, Sandor and Sansa trailing in a ways behind them. Catelyn came floating over to hug her daughter, eyeing Sandor through curls of auburn hair, and Ned came over and shook his hand, at once giving him a survey of stature and judging the strength of his handshake and giving him that “fuck with my daughter and I'll kill you” look.

 

“So this is the man Arya tells us about,” Ned still clasped his right hand in his, left hand reaching up to his shoulder, eyes boring into him. “Funny, Sansa hasn't said a _thing_ about you.”

 

“Daddy, please,” Sansa shushed.

 

“And how's my little girl?” He finally released his grip on Sandor's hand, embracing his daughter.

 

“I'm good, Dad. Just tired from school.” Ned released her, shooting another look at Sandor as if to say _better just be from school that she's tired,_ before heading back into the party to schmooze.

 

“Don't mind him. You know fathers and their daughters,” Catelyn pulled him down into a hug, whispering to him so that Sansa wouldn't hear. “Be easy on her, she's had a rough year.”

 

“I know, Mrs. Stark.”

 

“Oh, so formal! Please, call me Catelyn.” She released him, pulling her daughter back over to her. “Well, come on, everyone's waiting for us. Though, Sansa, dear, I must warn you… there was nothing we could do about it...” Her voice trailed off and their eyes followed hers to the golden-haired boy chatting with Tywin in the center of the room.

 

Instantly, rage coursed through Sandor's veins while Sansa's felt like they froze.

 

“Mom, you're kidding? You didn't even tell me.”

 

“I'm sorry, dear. Tywin insisted on having him here, and you know very well that what Tywin wants, he gets. Tyrion tried to keep him from coming, but it was no use.”

 

“But it's _his_ resort!”

 

“Yes, but Tywin owns it, really. It was his money that bought it, and, well, like I said...”

 

Sandor stooped and whispered in her ear, trying half-heartedly to conceal it from Catelyn. “I swear if he lays a hand on you, I'll throttle that little shit.”

 

Sansa nodded, and Catelyn threw a look back at him over her shoulder. Whether it was approving or appalled, he wasn't sure.

 

They made their way through the room, Tyrion coming up to greet them, throwing many thanks at Sandor for actually coming up, commenting about how lovely Sansa looked. Bronn and Lollys found them shortly after, Bronn clapping him on the shoulder and saying how surprised he was that after all that fuss, he actually came, Lollys saying how she was just _so glad_ Sandor had met someone, to which they both blushed.

 

And finally, the inevitable came, and they made their way over to Tywin and Joffrey, picking up Catelyn and Ned in tow on their way over.

 

“Mr. Lannister,” Ned began, “it's good to see you again. I'm sure you remember Sansa.”

 

“It's only been a few months, Ned, of course I remember her.” The little shit next to him eyed her maliciously, and Sandor glared back at him, pulling Sansa to him. The movement was not lost on Tywin. “And who's this?”

 

Sansa spoke this time, more to Joffrey than Tywin. “My boyfriend, Sandor Clegane.” _Boyfriend?_ Nobody had ever called him that. Tywin raised his eyebrows, but gave no other indication of his thoughts. Joffrey sneered at him, his wormy lips twisting up into a cruel smile.

 

“Clegane, this is my grandson, Joffrey.” Neither made any attempt at a handshake, Sandor keeping his arm around Sansa, and Joffrey with his crossed over his chest, trying to puff himself up.

 

They were interrupted- saved- by Tyrion summoning everyone to take their seats. Sansa and Sandor turned to find their placecards, but Joffrey grabbed on to his arm as they were walking away.

 

“Look, _dog_ , that bitch is mine, and I will have her back by the end of tonight. Just you see. Your ugly face is nothing compared to my wealth.” The urge to throw this little shit over the railing of the patio and into the grass behind it was nigh overwhelming. But there were people around, in particular, Sansa's parents, and though he had a very flimsy understanding of how this upper-class society operated, he knew enough that Tywin was a powerful man. Throwing his grandson off a patio in front of twenty-so people wouldn't be a good start to the evening.

 

He stooped low enough to growl in his ear, everyone else's attention diverted to the dinner being brought out by the servers. “Lay one hand on her, and I'll see to it that we're twins.”

 

Joffrey just sneered back at him, seeming not to take the hint. Perhaps this night would end up going quite a bit differently than he'd hoped, after all.

 

* * *

 

He spent the rest of dinner glaring across the table at the little shit, absently answering questions as they were thrown at him, Sansa to his right, squeezing his forearm every once in a while.

 

After dinner, they were lead on a tour of the nearby grounds, elaborate tents set up in the acres around the main building to serve as rooms. Sandor was shown to his, the furthest away from the other tents, set on the banks of the river that flowed through the property, ponderosas scattered here and there around it to provide some semblance of shade in the day. Sansa's was all the way across the field, in a cluster of the other Stark's tents.

 

“Let me walk you to yours,” he offered, seeing the hesitation to leave him on her face. “Make sure you're tucked away safe and sound.” She couldn't be sure in the dim light of the moon, but she could have sworn he winked at her.

 

“Gentlemanly of you,” her father commented, tossing him a half smile as he ushered Catelyn along, Arya and Gendry already several yards in front of them. Sandor just nodded back at him in acknowledgment.

 

_Did the other shit not do that?_

 

_No… spent as little effort on me as he could._

 

_I hate that cunt more and more-_

 

_Watch your language!_

 

_It's just you that can hear me._

 

_Right, well, ladies shouldn't hear such things._

 

_Oh, please._

 

_I am! Just… maybe not so much around you. Just like you're not so much of an asshole around me as you are everyone else._

 

_I tried tonight!_

 

_Yes, you did. I think my dad might not entirely hate you._

 

_I guess that's better than I would have expected._

 

_It's a start._

 

They made it over to their tents, the other Starks bidding adieu to Sansa and Sandor, heading in to theirs for the night.

 

“I don't want you to leave, but...”

 

“...your parents are here. I know.”

 

“See you tomorrow?”

 

“Aye, little bird.”

 

She pulled him down for a kiss that she wished could continue, reluctantly turning to head into her tent. His finger trailed down her arm as she pulled away, her hand sliding out of his as the tent flaps closed behind her. She listened as his bootsteps thumped across the wooden deck outside the tent, to the soft crunch of dried grass under them as he crossed the field. She sunk into the plush bed in the back of the tent, staring absently at the flame flickering in the lantern next to the bed. The comforter sucked her in when she flopped back into it, arms resting on her tummy and still in her dress from dinner. She'd not even bothered to change into her pajamas, the suitcase untouched next to her bed.

 

She looked around the tent, and Tyrion really _had_ done a good job of setting this place up. The canvas of the tent glowed with the lanterns around its inside, the floor was all deck, it seemed like, covered in rugs and cowhides. The bed was a real bed, frame and all. There was a tub in between it and the flaps of the entrance. _Glamping_ , she'd heard it called. Tame Montana. Just the sort of thing the people he'd planned to market to would gobble up. But it was missing something: the large block of chest to snuggle into, the warm arms to wrap around her, the long legs to tangle with hers under the covers. Surely no one would notice if she just got back before everyone else was awake. And so she dug through her suitcase and found an old t-shirt and her black lounge pants and rolled them up under her arm, blowing out the lanterns on her way back out of her tent and over to his.

 

* * *

 

It was just light enough to be able to make it over to his tent without twisting her ankle in an unseen dip in the ground or tripping over a rock, and she tiptoed as quietly as she could up to his tent to peek in. He's taken off his button down, still in the crisp white t-shirt that had been underneath it. He was just stretching over to blow out the last lantern next to the bed-

 

_Knock knock._

 

_Aren't you supposed to be safely tucked in to your own bed by now?_

 

_Can I come in?_

 

_Of course._

 

He watched her unabashedly as she crossed the space between them.

 

_I think I need help getting this dress unzipped, is all._

 

_Oh, is that all?_

 

_Mhmm._

 

He tossed the covers back and closed the last few feet of distance between them.

 

_Are you sure?_ as he stooped to kiss her and she set her change of clothes on the chest at the foot of his bed, the butterflies erupting in her stomach when the mix of skin on his lips met hers.  


 

_Mhmm,_ she teased.

 

_Positive?_ as he trailed kisses down her cheek.

 

_Mhmmmmm_ , as he kissed her neck and she toyed with the collar of his shirt.

 

_Absolutely, definitevly, certain?_ as she tugged at the hem of his shirt and they spun around, Sansa plopping ungracefully into the mattress beneath her. He pulled it off in one swift movement, her hands tracing over the newly-exposed skin.

 

She smiled into his kisses, _No, but really, can you help me get out of this thing?_

 

_Oh._ He pulled back a little, searching the back of her dress for the zipper pull. _I think I might be able to do that._ He slid the zipper down painfully slowly, and she kissed him as long as it took to reach its final descent before holding the dress up with one hand and stealing his shirt with the other.

 

_Turn around, good sir._ She twirled her finger at him, motioning her instructions. 

 

_I'm no sir, little bird,_ as he turned, hearing the soft swoosh of fabric on wood as her dress fell.

 

_Mmm, it smells like you,_ as she pulled his shirt on, the loungepants soon after.

 

He crawled back into the bed, holding one arm out for her and patting his chest with the other.  _Come on, you._ And as she blew out the lantern, he pulled her into him, her head resting easily on his chest and his arm wrapping around her shoulders just like it was the most natural thing in the world. Just like they'd fallen asleep like that, in each other's arms, for decades.  _I love you, Sandor Clegane._

 

_And I love you, little bird._


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo, guys! I'll post a warning this time: this chapter is NFSW, for those of you reading/looking at the picsets at work. ;)
> 
> [Picset!](http://its-meggowaffle.tumblr.com/post/131427556050/chapter-15-of-in-each-others-eyes)
> 
> Song inspos, a la Jillypups in Upstairs:  
> The Black Keys - I Got Mine  
> X Ambassadors - Gorgeous  
> Hozier - Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene  
> Flume & Chet Faker - Drop the Game  
> Alt-J - Every Other Freckle  
> Bon Iver - Holocene
> 
> (I know, a weird mix)
> 
> Enjoy this beast of a chapter! Updates will probably be a bit far off.

The stinging needles in his arm woke him up before anything else, Sansa rolling over onto her side and off of his arm, the blood flowing back into it making almost unbearable. He'd just scooted up to her, effectively covering all of the back of her as he curled against her, tingling arm tucked up under his pillow now and the other wrapped around her middle. He buried his face in her hair, the scent of lemon lulling him back to sleep.

 

But then in the still of the night, a blood-curdling scream disturbed the chirps of the crickets, and they both sat upright, rigid from the sudden disruption of dreams.

 

“Where did that come from?” she asked to his back as he rushed out of bed, searching in the dark for his boots.

 

“I don't know, but it sounded like it came from your guys' tents.” _Shit_. She crawled out of bed, too, thankful that for some reason he'd brought flip flops with him and they were poking out of his suitcase within her reach.

 

He strode to the entrance of the tent, Sansa trying her best to hurry after him, the much-too-big sandals slapping against her feet like a child's in her father's shoes.

 

“Aww, hells, little bird. You're not coming.”

 

“Yes, I am! You said it sounded like our tents. Of course I'm coming.”

 

“Not like _that_ you're not.”

 

“Shush, I can manage.”

 

“Seven hells, Sansa.” She caught up with him on the deck outside of the tent, fisting her hands on her hips and looking at him indignantly. “You'll only slow me down.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Fine, up you go,” and before she knew it, he'd flung her over his shoulder and they were sprinting- _sprinting_ \- across the field toward the other tents. _Gods, he's strong._

 

He set her down gently at the edge of the tent complex, holding his finger to his lips to signal for quiet, and she nodded back at him. Only a few minutes had passed between the scream and where they were now, and he told her to  _stay here_ while he stalked outside the tents to see if he could hear anything else. It was surprising that such a heft of a man could move so quietly, but soon he cocked his head to the side, listening outside what was supposed to be her tent. She wrapped her arms around her middle, wondering what exactly she was supposed to do, while he pushed the tent flap aside and ducked in. She heard boots scuffling, yelling, Sandor- Joffrey? her mother? What the hells was going on?

 

She saw her father walking up out of her periphery, limping slightly from the cold of the night in his bones, and she  shuffled over to him. 

 

“What's going on? Where's your mother?”

 

“What do you mean, 'where's mom?' Wasn't she with you?”

 

“No, I thought she went to find you. She left about a half an hour ago, and I thought she said she was going to your tent.”

 

The look on his face was a clear 'why weren't you in your own tent?,' but as they met each other's eyes, for some reason, it clicked. Why it had taken them that long to figure out was absurd. If she wasn't in her tent, and that's where the scream had come from, and the scuffling and yelling…. _Oh, no._

 

They both dashed to the tent at the same time, bursting through to see her mother on her bed, clutching her throat and shaking, nodding at Sandor as he asked her questions and pushed his knee into the back of the blonde boy underneath him, his hands pinned underneath Sandor's knee, too.

 

“You're sure you're okay?” He reached out his hand to Catelyn, pushing more weight onto the boy beneath him, who groaned into the rug on the floor.

 

“Yes, thank you, I-” her eyes raised to Sansa and her father walking over to her. “Ned! Oh, Sansa, there you are.” There was something that sounded like _get off me!_ muffled from Joffrey's smushed face in the rug, but no one paid attention.

 

“Catelyn?” Ned approached her, holding on to her shoulders and looking her in the eye. “What happened?” He surveyed the scene around him, confusion evident on his face. Joffrey sputtered and wriggled under Sandor, who just ground his knee harder into him.

 

“Came in to this little shit with a blade to your wife's throat, sir.” Ned looked down to the man speaking, his brows furrowed.

 

“Catelyn?” He looked back to her and she nodded, shrugging.

 

“He has the jist of it. I came in here to talk to Sansa about-” her eyes drifted over to Sandor for just the briefest of moments. “To talk to Sansa. And she wasn't here, so I figured maybe she'd just stepped out, so I was waiting for her on the bed, and then- and then Joffrey came in, put a knife to my throat, and I screamed and… and now we're here.” She looked to Ned, still visibly shaken. “But I can't figure out why he would be in here, and...”

 

“Because he thought you were Sansa.” Sandor looked up at her as she walked around the tent re-lighting the lanterns she'd blown out on her way over to Sandor's tent. Gods, if she'd stayed there… but it was no better, he'd still gotten her mom.

 

Ned looked back over to Sandor, not even struggling to contain the thrashing boy under his knee. “Why would he be in here for Sansa?”

 

_Gods, is he really that dense?_

 

_He just doesn't want to admit it, Sandor._

 

“He threatened her at dinner. Said something about _having her back_ by the end of the night. So, maybe finish the job from January?” Ned looked at Sandor pointedly, trying to decide what to do. Sansa stood in the corner, the furthest from Joffrey she could be, just watching.

 

“Is this true, Sansa?” Ned asked, pulling her from the wallflower position she'd adopted.

 

“I didn't hear him say it, but he was giving me that vile look all night, and really, Dad, would it be so beyond him?” She could feel her blood rising, getting angrier that her father wasn't angrier at the situation. For gods' sake, this little shit had tried to _rape_ her and now he'd accosted her mother, probably with the intention of, like Sandor had said, finishing the job. Just that her mom had gotten in the way, and… “Dad. Seriously, we need to do something about this. Wasn't he supposed to be in prison? What happened to that?” She looked down at Joffrey, squirming under Sandor's knee still, mumbling angrily into the rug.

 

“We tried, but-”

 

“What's going on in here?” Tywin strode into the tent, indignant that he'd been woken in the middle of the night. His eyes drifted across the room, Sansa in the corner with her arms wrapped around her middle, Catelyn on the bed with her hands still rubbing her throat, Ned standing near her and turning around to meet the other man's eyes. Sandor, with his grandson pinned under him. Understanding settled over his features, his lips pressed into a thin line when he regarded the mop of blonde hair. “Joffrey, what did you do?”

 

He was met with only mumbles from the rug.

 

“Gods. Alright, give him here,” he said to Sandor, waving his hands up in a motion for him to release his captive. Sandor eyed him suspiciously, reluctant to do as he was bid. “Hound. Release him.”

 

Sandor glared back, but obeyed, Joffrey scrambling up and over to his grandfather. _Coward_. _Child running back to his protector_.

 

“Ned,” Tywin regarded the scowl that met him, “we'll talk about this later.” And they turned to leave, Tywin's hand directing the back of Joffrey's neck to the tent flaps.

 

“Tywin, I expect more severe punishment from this. I will not rest until I see him locked up.”

 

“I said we'll talk later,” he said over his shoulder, almost looking down his nose at Ned.

 

_That family is more fucked up than I thought._

 

_You have no idea._

 

* * *

 

They spent the rest of the night calming Catelyn down, Sandor insisting that Sansa stay in his tent- _I am_ not _leaving her alone with that creep still here, Ned-_ until finally they all departed back to their respective tents. It was a restless night for all, and when dawn finally came, Sandor went to find Tyrion to wearily decline staying there any longer. _So long as that fucker stays around here, I won't be offering my services._ Tyrion had been reluctant to let him go, but ultimately understood, and by the time noon came around, Sansa and Sandor were on their way back to Missoula.

 

They'd left Gendry and Arya with her parents to go back with them to Big Sky, said their goodbyes to Bronn and Lollys, and now were hurdling back west through pines and mountains and streams, Sansa's hand clasped in his over the center console.

 

“Thanks for last night, by the way.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“For saving mom.”

 

“I didn't save her.”

 

“You did. I'm not sure what Joffrey would have done if...”

 

He shrugged, glanced over at her from behind his shades. “It's in the past now.”

 

“Something tells me it isn't, with you.”

 

“Maybe you're right. But your dad sounds like he's got some pretty good basis for locking him up for good. Or at least never having to have him around any longer. Tywin should know that, too.”

 

She regarded him, one long arm draped over the steering wheel, navy thermal pushed up to his elbow. Nonchalant, yet somehow rigid, on edge. Muscled arms exuding strength and yet somehow seeming so easy to crack, despite putting on the tough guy facade.

 

“I just don't want to leave you here in case he tries something stupid. In case they don't put him away, Sansa.”

 

“I only have another month until I graduate.” She turned her attentions to the road in front of them, the bridge over the Blackfoot that signaled another half hour until they were to her house. “We'll see after that.”

 

She needed a distraction. _They_ needed a distraction. They hadn't really had any time to themselves since he got here just the other day, and suddenly she had an idea. “Hey, will you take the next left?”

 

“Why?” He looked over at her, questioning.

 

“Just do it.” She glared back at him, challenging.

 

“Fine, alright,” and soon he was slowing the car, taking the sharp left turn across the highway and onto the pothole-strewn residential street. “Where am I going?”

 

“Just pull to the end and park. It's a surprise.”

 

He raised his eyebrows at her from behind his sunglasses, but when they reached the dead-end of the street, he tossed it in park like she'd asked. “Come on,” she said as she climbed out of the car, waving her arm at him through the open door. She led him down the hill on their right, the river just below them, down slick red rocks and finally to a calm pool along the river bank, the rocks providing ledges to lounge on. He watched her as she started working at the buttons of her blouse, shedding it in the bushes on the banks.

 

“What do you think you're doing?”

 

She walked over to him, tugging at the hem of his thermal. “Going for a swim.”

 

“Isn't it freezing?”

 

“Come on, wuss. Your skin goes numb after a few minutes- it's _fine_ ,” she teased as he pulled his shirt off, watching as she followed suit. She wiggled out of her jeans, enjoying it when he stared at her, his eyes wandering from her feet on up, lingering a little at the lacy purple bra she'd chosen that day.And she stared back unashamedly when his jeans dropped, too, running a finger down the ridges of his stomach, the soft hair over the tanned skin. She looked up at him just long enough that he started to bend his head down for a kiss before she giggled and ran away, over the slippery rocks to the ledge above the river water rushing past. She stood at the precipice, only a few feet above the water, throwing a glance back over her shoulder to see him following her, held her breath, and jumped in.   
  
She popped back up just as the splash from his jump settled, and she waited until his head bobbed up a little downstream to swim back over to the rocks. He shook the water out of his hair like a dog, arms pulling long strokes back over to her. Both their teeth were chattering when she pulled him in for a kiss, elbows propping her up on a ledge, legs treading water and trying not to kick him. Her hands slid over his slippery shoulders, his around her waist. 

  


“See, it's not so bad once you get used to it,” she said through chattering teeth, goosebumps covering every inch of her skin.

  


“Nice and warm for snowmelt,” he sarcastically agreed, pushing a little wave of water towards her playfully. 

  


“Oh, is it a war you want?” she asked as it broke across her shoulder. “Cause I can give you a war.” She pushed a bigger one back at him, the wave breaking over the mock-stunned expression on his face. He pushed one back at her, a veritable tidal wave that soaked her anew.

  


“Is that a challenge, my lady?” he teased, pushing off from the ledge and swimming out of reach. She chased after him, pushing waves at him that still wouldn't reach. He was much too fast for her to keep up, and he swam circles around her in the cold water, splashing often enough to tease that she couldn't reciprocate. But she laughed off his attempts every time, still trying to throw more water back at him. He herded her into the shallows, back up onto a sloped ledge, warmed from the sun. 

  


She scooted up on the rock, steam rising from the puddles dripping off her, and she giggled when he followed her, running his hands up her sides and kissing her belly.

  


“I think you won, ser.” 

  


“I am no ser, little bird.”

  


“It's just an express- ah-” His lips found her pulse as he slithered up her body, one arm sliding under her back to hold himself up, pillow her head, the other toying with the band of her bra. Her legs spread instinctively for him and he settled between them, kissing her neck when it fell back, her clavicle, her-

  


“Sandor.” He pulled back, looked into those clear blue pools of hers. “Maybe we should, uh… we're out where anyone could see us.” She looked down at the valley of muscles between his shoulder blades, exposed when his head dropped down to the soft flesh of her breast, the droplets of water on his skin drying off in the sun. One of her hands gripped his bicep, the other ran up his back, then down, fingers barely sliding under the wet elastic of his boxers. 

  


She loved that smirk that tugged at the burned side of his lips, that spark, like flint in his grey eyes. “Maybe we should get going.” It was more of a question than a statement, the way he said it. She knew what he was asking.  _Maybe we should get back to the house. To bed._ And she wasn't sure if she should, but the heat that pooled between her legs when he stood, offering his hand to help her up, when he ran his hands down his body to squeegee the water off his skin, when she caught him looking at her as she pulled her jeans back on… well, it was just enough to do her in. 

  


 

* * *

The last twenty minutes had been almost unbearable. Sandor had been very polite, handing her her tossed-aside clothes when they got dressed after  she'd gotten out of the water, helping her back up the hill to the car, not teasing her when she fumbled with the radio to have something to distract her. But she could see the images in his head, though he tried to keep them from her. His hands sliding up under her shirt, pale skin of her neck pocked with the red marks his mouth had left, ultimately her sprawled out underneath him, mouth curled up in pleasure.  _Gods_ , the things he was doing to her without even trying. Or, rather, trying  _not_ to.

  


She wished the speed limit was the same in town as it had been on the highway, wished there was some way to get to her house faster, wished there hadn't been any traffic in town. They had to go all the way through it to get to her house, and they'd hit right at rush hour, and by the time he pulled into her driveway, she was one heated gaze from him away from combusting.  She made a point to restrain her eagerness, the overwhelming desire to grab him and run to her bedroom, as she walked into the house, casually setting down her things on the kitchen counter. She heard the door shut somewhere behind her, his bootsteps as he made his way across the hardwood to where she was standing. 

  


_I sincerely hope you're acting, little bird._

  


_What makes you say that?_

  


_Because you're torturing me._

  


She turned around to face him, his hands instantly going to her waist and hers wrapping around his neck. “How so?” she cooed into his ear.

  


“This,” he pulled back momentarily to motion up and down at her with his finger. “All of this,” he pulled the collar of her shirt over to kiss her shoulder. “Seeing you earlier,” his hand moved a little further up from her waist. “In the water, barely wearing anything.”

  


“And what if you're reading it wrong?” she had to bite her lip as she said it to conceal the smile that spread across her lips, but he missed it from where his eyes were at that moment, staring at the skin at the top of her breast that he'd exposed.

  


“Am I?” He pulled away, concern evident on his face. _How sweet that he really can't tell._ “I can hear that, you know,” he said as he dove back down to her neck, sucking at the tender flesh and tickling it with his whiskers.

  


“You're not,” she assured, one hand on the nape of his neck, the other on his chest, just like that day Arya had interrupted them… but now she wasn't here… there was no one to stop them. Her fingers toyed with the collar of his thermal and he lifted her up onto the counter, even now with his height.

  


“Because you need to tell me if this isn't what you want. I'll stop, I swear it.” His voice was just a low grumble in her ear, steel on stone, but she knew it was the truth. He wouldn't do anything she didn't allow. Didn't want.

  


“I want this,” she whispered in his ear, voice heavy and lips trailing down his neck. “I want you.”

  


He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, hooking a hand under her knee to pull it up. “I want you, too, Sansa. _Gods, I_ _want you._ ”

  


She tugged at the hem of his thermal and he pulled it off, the sudden rush of cool air sending goosebumps to his skin. She studied his skin up close now that the opportunity had presented itself, tiny scars dotted in between bigger, wider ones. He'd seen some shit over the years, evidently. Well, aside from that obvious evidence on his face. She pulled back from his attentions, meeting his eyes, a mix of desire and desperation and disbelief in his eyes. Hurt, when hers drifted to the burned side of his face. She hadn't meant to make him self-conscious in that small act, but she supposed she had. She could feel his muscles tense under her hands. She knew his thoughts. Years of being turned down, laughed at, discarded.

  


_No, no, no, nonononono, never. I would never do that to you, you_ must _know that, Sandor._ His eyes just met hers, sadness welling in them, though stony and dry.  She did the only thing she could think of, pouring all the love she had into her kisses as she trailed them across his ruined cheek, her arms wrapping around him and hugging him tighter than she thought possible.  This massive man, so full of power, so outwardly self-sure, so easily broken by perceived disgust.  _That's not it, Sandor. I want this. I want all of you._

  


“You must know that this,” she cupped her hand over the scar, ran her thumb across it. “This has nothing to do with why I want you. I want _you_ , and this is just something that happened _to_ _you._ This isn't your soul, this isn't the man who cheered me up when I was depressed.” She pulled his hand up to her lips, kissing his fingertips. “This isn't the man who let me see inside him. The man I fell in love with.” His eyes bore into her, still disbelieving but softening the longer they remained locked to hers. “Now would you quit worrying so much and kiss me?” she teased, and he obliged, effectively silencing her with the hunger his lips pressed into hers. 

  


She  heard a moan bubble up from somewhere near where their hips were pressed together, or maybe it was from where their tongues were sliding against one another, or maybe it was from where his hand kneaded at the soft flesh of her breast.  Either way, it only spurred him on, and she met his attentions equally with her own. She ran her hands across the hills and valleys of the muscles of his back, dragging her fingers down when he pulled her closer, a hand on the nape of her neck, another on her hip bone as she wiggled against the hardness that was pressed up against her. She ran a finger under the waistband of his jeans, silently pleading to  _take them off_ , and he obliged, kicking them off and sliding them across the floor. Hers were next as he peeled them off her, staring a little more reverently than she was comfortable with at the smooth skin of her legs. He tugged her shirt off next, exposing the still-wet  lace of her bra, see through in its state. His hands went to the clasp, expertly freeing her in a pinch of the tab, faster than she'd anticipated, and her hands went instinctively to cover herself.

  


“Hey, now. What's that for?” his face was a mess of confusion- _why would you cover yourself? You're perfect._

  


“I've just… I've never liked them, I guess.”

  


“That's just absurd.” He barely finished his sentence as he descended to her breast, his tongue working circles around one of nipples, his hand playing with the other. His tongue made her think for the briefest of moments what else it might be able work circles around, and she didn't tuck the thought away quick enough before he caught it. The most devilish grin she'd ever seen spread across his lips as his hands traveled down her sides, fingers working at the elastic of her panties, dragging them down her legs and tossing them somewhere in the vicinity of his pants. 

  


“No- you _can't,”_ she protested as he scooted her up to the edge of the counter. “It's not proper, it's- _oh._ ” Her train of thought was derailed when his lips found the skin of her inner thigh, kissing a few inches up one and then switching to the other, working his way closer and closer to her core. 

  


 

* * *

  


_Shush, little bird, and let me make you sing_ . He truly didn't have any idea what he was doing, but he'd heard enough that women liked it, seen enough of the internet to know the basics,  _wanted_ enough to learn. His fingers made it there first, his tongue shortly after, and  _gods_ , she was already so wet. His cock twitched in anticipation, but it would have to wait. Her first. Always her first.  He ran his hands along her, easily sliding into her when he heard her moan, her body  falling back against the cool marble of the counter. His tongue found that little nub that she seemed to like, working circles around it like he'd heard in her head, his other hand running up along her to squeeze at her breast. That had been more for him than her, a greedy thing, but then he heard her breathy panting, he just squeezed harder, flicked her nipple with his thumb. There were so many different things to concentrate on, and his rhythm got a little messed up, but when he felt a hand run through his hair, holding him in place, felt her body tense up, saw, out of the corner of his eye, her hand clutching the edge of the counter, he knew he must be doing something right. He curled his fingers inside her, sucked at her, felt her legs pull him even closer, felt a pulse around his fingers when she cried out  _yes, Sandor, yes._ Then she relaxed around him, and when he kissed his way back up her, he saw the lazy smile on her lips.  _Must've done something right_ .

  


_You did everything right_ . She pulled him to her, bent over the counter and covering her, her hands trailing up his spine as she kissed his shoulder, his neck.  _Gods, Sandor._ She hummed when he kissed her, pushing her arms up above her head and lacing their fingers together, his hips involuntarily grinding into her, still ready for their turn. 

  


“Should we, um...” her eyes drifted to the bedroom and he got her hint, her question, and he nodded against her lips when he devoured them again. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, setting her down gently on the mattress, wondering the entire time if she was sure. He could see, clearly, that she was ready, but her mind said otherwise.

  


 

* * *

  


_Are you sure?_

  


She nodded back at him, eyes glued to the middle distance in front of her, which just happened to be straight at the tent of his boxers.

  


_You don't seem sure._

  


_I am. I wouldn't say so if I wasn't._

  


“Then why do I get the feeling that you're not?”

  


“I just… it's, um...”

  


“Have you...”

  


“No.” She blushed and ducked her head, instantly ashamed at her inexperience. She was the last one of all the other women she knew… gods, even her little sister…

  


“We don't have to, you know. Don't feel obligated just because of-” he swept his hands in front of him, indicating the state he was in.

  


“No, I know. I _do_ want to, I'm just… nervous, I guess. I know it'll hurt, and, well,” she flipped her hand up at him, gesturing to the size of what she could see.

  


“We would take it slow,” he assured, though feeling a little guilty that he sounded pushy. That wasn't what he was trying to construe. “I don't want to hurt you.”

  


“I know you don't. But it's going to. I know it will. But that's okay, it'll hurt regardless, and I guess I was kind of prepared for that, but… I don't know. But, _gods_ , I want you. I want this,” she pulled at the elastic of his boxers, pulling him closer, pushing them down a little and eyeing the creases of muscle that disappeared into them. “Take these off, will you?”

  


She watched as his fingers slid under the waistband, pushing them lower, lower, and she shut her eyes, _keep going, don't mind me._ She opened them again when she felt his weight settle next to her on the bed, felt his kisses on her shoulder and his arm wrap around her.

  


“Seriously, Sansa. We don't have to, and if we do, if you really _want_ to, tell me if you want to stop. Don't just feel like you have to, okay?”

  


She nodded, running her hand tentatively up his thigh. So strong. If he decided to- an image of Joffrey popped into her head, ripping her dress, looming over her- she wouldn't be able to stop him.

  


“Sansa. If that's what you're thinking, there's no fucking way we're doing this.” He looked offended. A little angry. She hadn't meant for him to be privy to that- shit, what had she just done?

  


“Sandor, no. I don't think that's what you would do. My mind just wandered, and- I _want_ this, how many more times do I have to tell you?”

  


“Enough that I believe you.”

  


She turned her head to kiss his chest, worked her way up to his neck, her hand trailing farther up his leg, and she heard a contented hiss when she grabbed him. _I_ want _this, Sandor. I want this. Now lay me back and…_ she struggled with the word, her propriety stopping her from saying it, though that was exactly what she wanted.

  


_And fuck you?_

  


She nodded into his neck, inhaling him, the stubble on his throat scratching her nose.  She felt him push her back, scoot her up to the pillows.  Her legs fell open of their own accord, room enough for him to settle between them, and without even thinking, her hips rose to meet his when she felt the length of him press against her. 

  


He looked straight into her eyes,  the slate in them dark with intent, desire, need. “You tell me to stop if you want me to stop. Promise me, Sansa.”

  


She matched his intensity, meaning each word. “I promise.” 

  


“Shit, I need to go grab-”

  


“Nope.” She reached up to her nightstand, finding the little pink disc of pills. She figured she'd need them eventually. There was a guttural growl at the back of his throat, appreciative if nothing else.

  


Her ankles settled over the small of his back, pulling him closer, and he hesitated at her entrance. “Fast or slow?”

  


_Fast. Get it over with quickly._ And he slid into her in one fluid movement, silky wet heat wrapping around him as he wiped away the tear that fell across her cheek.  He didn't move, letting her adjust to him, letting her breathing return to normal from the shallow ones she'd been taking. 

  


“You're okay?” She nodded back at him, faintly moving her hips to test out how it felt. It was still painful, the stretching she wasn't used to, but there was something more to it. Through the dull throb, there was the sensation of having something inside her, the friction of his hips pressed to hers, the weight of him over her, and it felt… _good_. Like she'd thought it would, eventually. She rocked her hips up to him, rubbing herself against him in that spot he'd found earlier, and he started to move against her, too, setting a rhythm.

  


T he longer they kept at it, the more  _good_ it really did feel. His hands ran up her sides ever y once in a while, holding her hips as he thrust into her, or cupping a breast and teasing her nipple. He kissed every inch of her he could reach, and she did the same, running her hands down the length of his back, down his arms, gripping onto his biceps or forearms when he'd raise himself up off of her. He seemed to like it when she'd reach down and grab his ass to pull him into her, a low growl ghosting into her ear every time she did. She could feel herself getting closer, the friction of his body on hers, of his body  _in_ hers, and  s he grabbed his hand to push it down between them.  _Do that thing that you did, again_ . She wanted to eat up that smirk that spread across his lips, but her thoughts were erased when his thumb found it, slowly, gently, rubbing out her release, and she slammed her eyes shut, her hands gripping white-knuckled onto the stone-hard trunk of his arm. 

  


_Sing for me, little bird_ . And she obliged, throaty moans and airy whimpers when he kept at it, drawing out her orgasm as he still moved in her. She wove her fingers into his hair, pulling him down for a deep kiss, her moans mixing with his as she clenched around him.  She could tell he was getting close, the sweat on his brow, clenched teeth, but then he rolled them over, sat her astride him.

  


“I thought-” She was perplexed. Wasn't he supposed to…

  


He smiled back up at her, his scar twisting mischieviously. “Slowly, little bird. I'm enjoying this too much.” He ran his palm up the flat of her stomach, eyes devouring her naked flesh, completely open for his appraisal. “Gods, you're beautiful,” he said to the two sky-blue eyes staring back at him, the wet flames plastered to her forehead, the goosebumps on her pale skin that popped up when his breath met the dew on it. His hands came to rest on her hips, directing the tempo of their movements, encouraging her to take the lead. She was hesitant at first, growing more confident as her orgasm died down and another ramped up. 

  


Though he would never tell her, he was rather proud of this feat. Something he'd never accomplished due to the women he'd been with mostly being pity fucks, wanting him to hurry up and be done with it. But this, this was different.  _She_ was different, and he wanted to bottle up the faces she made at him, the sounds she was making, fuck, even the way she smelled, tasted. Everything. The more he thought about it, this perfect creature sitting on him,  _riding_ him,  the connection they shared and the fact that he could feel hers coming again, too… it was enough to send him over the edge, but he didn't want to jump without her.  _One more time, little bird._ And so he moved her hand to where his had been before, getting her started, watching as she picked up on her own; losing it when her face contorted in her release and her walls clenched around him again. He grabbed on to her hips and thrust up into her, a strangled cry from both of them as they came, Sansa collapsing on top of him in a heaving mess. 

  


“Oh, my gods, Sandor.”

  


He laughed at her, eyes closed and smile plastered on her lips. She kicked her legs out so she ley next to him, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest. “That was amazing, little bird.”

  


Her sleepy, high-pitched  _mmhmm_ had him smiling, and he kissed her on her forehead,  _I love you, Sansa_ , letting her drift off to sleep as he lay awake on her bed, thinking of just how lucky he'd gotten when that little voice had popped into his head those months ago. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspo](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/4b/55/48/4b5548709b8c2803d2270f2419b9d435.jpg)
> 
> Little tidbit while I figure out what to do with this thing. I was honestly considering killing off Sandor, but that just seems so finite, and I love this little world that I've created so much to just *end* it. Alas... that leaves me in the same place I was before. Any suggestions would be much appreciated! Or prompts within a story, haha!

She hadn't even realized that she'd nodded off, but somewhere around sunset she  came to with the alarming sensation of waking up in unfamiliar circumstances. The golden light of the setting sun was pooling in through the window, and as she  surfaced out of her haze , she realized why she felt out of sorts. It was the deepest sleep she'd had in a long time, and it had only been for a little bit, sending her perception of time askew. She lifted her head off of the warm skin of his chest, propping  it up a little better with her elbow, taking in the sight of him. His face was completely relaxed in slumber, the slow rise and fall of his chest with the deep breaths he took entrancing her. She ran her fingertips gently over the soft hair on his chest, gilded in the dying light. She took in the curve of his shoulder, his bicep with the marks from her fingernails that she was oddly proud of. Her eyes trailed over the ripples of his stomach, the dip of his belly button, down a little further to the triangle of flat muscle over his hip bone.  She placed her palm there, feeling the muscle move as he grunted and shifted over in his sleep, a heavy arm sleepily raising and wrapping itself around her, pulling her close. She buried her face in the valley that was created in his chest when he rolled over, his hair tickling her nose. She watched the images of his dreams in her mind as she breathed in the scent of him. It must have been something about the proximity, or maybe his guard was down, but she'd never seen his dreams before.

They sat one the edge of his deck, legs dangling over the side, a beer in his hand and a mug of tea in hers, her head on his shoulder and his hand on her knee, his thumb playing with the fabric of the sundress she was wearing. A warm breeze stirred her hair, long and wavy and draped over her shoulder, occupying the space between them. He watched as the tiny flowers on her dress shifted with the fabric as his thumb moved it, examined the freckles on her knee. She didn't know how he'd managed to get it right in the brief amount of time he'd had to study her skin, but he'd gotten the pattern right. Maybe it was his access to her mind that allowed that. But there, next to his hand, just above the top of her knee was that one darker freckle and the littler, lighter ones that surrounded it. Just like in real life. She sipped her tea quietly, he nursed his beer. They sat in companionable silence just watching the sunset. Watching as the day ended and the stars sleepily poked out from beneath the rapidly darkening sky.

The images faded as she heard him inhale deeply, the muscles under her hands becoming taut as he stretched out.

  


“Hey,” he mumbled sleepily into her hair.

  


“Good morning,” she said into his chest, wrapping her arm tighter around his middle and not wanting to let go.

  


“Shit, is it morning already?” She broke away long enough to see his eyes blinking rapidly, trying to focus in the soft light. He rolled over away from her, and reading his thoughts, she knew he was looking for his phone for the time.

  


“No, it's just sunset.” Satisfied, he rolled back over to her, his arms around her again. She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head and she nuzzled into his neck. “I don't ever want to leave here.”

  



	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Tis the end, y'all. I thought about it, and while I could draw this out and develop my characters a little more, I think I like this as an encapsulated little story, with how the characters are as it is. Especially Sandor. He's not canon, obviously, but he's someone that I imagine I (and probably every other interested party) would want to date if I were available. Ha! So, I'm just gonna let them be. :) Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> [The Last PIcset!](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f7/81/1f/f7811f832f86012264c5ef1bfa1c06a6.jpg)

_You'll be fine, little bird._

  


She looked at him over the endless rows of people before her, her hands clasped nervously and fidgeting in her seat. The students- soon to be graduates- chattered amongst themselves around her, but over the din of their conversations and those of the thousands of people in the crowd in front of her, all she could hear was him.

  


She'd been a nervous wreck the morning of, wondering aloud who might show up, and everyone had tried to soothe her, pat her shoulder, assure her that  _he's on the other side of the country, in a high security prison, Sansa. You know that._ But it didn't matter. There was always that sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach when she knew she'd be around unfamiliar faces, amidst a sea of people crowding around. She always felt like he would just pop out of nowhere.

  


And so her family departed to go find parking and seats at the great stadium at the University, leaving Sansa and Sandor alone in the loft, staring at the traffic accumulating across town. His arm came to rest around her shoulders, tugging her over to him.

  


“You know it'll be okay, right?”

  


“How do you know?”

  


“I just do, Sansa. And if anything _does_ happen, I'll be right there to protect you. You know I will.”

  


“I know. I just can't stop feeling like something's going to go wrong.”

  


“If you keep thinking like that, it will.” He pulled her closer, dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. “Positive thoughts, little bird. And besides, in a few days, you're gonna be sitting on the beach, sun on that pretty face of yours, with not a care in the world.”

  


She remembered the conversation they'd had earlier as she stared out across the people in front of her, blurring like a zoomed-in lens to that familiar face in the back of the crowd, the one that sat higher than all the others. He gave her a reassuring nod as she heard her name called  over her own thoughts.  She numbly walked up to the line of professors at the front of the stage, shaking hands as she made her way past them. And then her diploma was placed in her hand and suddenly, all of this was real. She'd done it. All by herself. For once, it was something that wasn't just given to her, she'd  _earned_ it. And there was something about that that made her face crack into a smile and forget all that she'd been worrying about just a few minutes ago. Her eyes searched the crowd in front of her again, smiling faces at the back, cheering her on.

  


_You did it, little bird._

  


 

* * *

  


“Hold on, I forgot something in the car.” She said just as he'd spread the blanket out over the sand, scurrying quickly back over the hot ground. He watched as she dove in through the open window of the truck, long legs kicking as she struggled to reach whatever it was she was looking for. He only had a second to admire the curve of her ass disappearing into her biking bottoms before she extracted herself from the window and came running back over to him. She threw herself down onto the blanket next to him, her hair a mess in the ocean wind, her cheeks sunshine itself as she smiled over at him.

  


“What is it?” He probed her inquisitively, nodding at the crisp white envelope in her hand.

  


“We'll find out together.” She scooted over to him, leaning against his side as her hands worked to tear open the envolope.

  


Her breath caught as she read the words on the paper in front of her, the result of the interview she'd had earlier in the week. A formal offer of employment at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art. She'd done it.

  


“Congratulations, little bird.”

  


She crinkled her nose up at him and beamed. “Thanks.” She tucked the envelope and its contents under the tube of sunscreen before turning back to him with a devilish look. “Race you to the water.” 

  


And she was up before he even registered her words, a trail of kicked up sand in the air behind her. As the cool Pacific splashed over her shins, he swept her up in an arc not unlike that one in the parking lot those months ago. She was a fit of giggles and he was a squeeze to her middle, a nuzzle to her neck as he spun her around. 

  


“I love you, Sansa Stark.” He dropped her down on her tiptoes in the water, her body still pressed up against his chest and blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun.

  


“And I you, Sandor Clegane.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make my day. Please, no tagging "first." I appreciate comments that aid me in improving my writing skills, or let me know what you did or didn't like about the story. Mostly, I just get so excited to see that I have new message in my inbox, only to see that it was a "first" comment, and then I'm sad. And I don't wanna be sad! ;)
> 
> Also, all you guys have been so awesome with your comments thus far, and seriously, I know I keep repeating this, but comments really do make me smile everytime I read them. I'm glad y'all are liking the story so far! :D


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